Angel Beats Novel
by Fakety Mcfakename
Summary: A novelization of the events of Angel Beats. The opportunity was taken to give more development to certain characters, and to certain relationships.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N. As I'm starting from the beginning, you don't need to have seen this story's inspiration to understand what's going on. All of the characters are the same. I changed the names as an equalizer, but if you've seen Angel Beats I doubt you'll have trouble figuring who is who. **

Michael blinked. The night sky shone down on him; a sea of shimmering stars reflected down on his widened eyes.

He sat up, dazed. There was this… feeling, a feeling that something had been waylaid. There was something urgent he had to do. He rubbed his temples. But he couldn't remember.

Couldn't remember… Mike's eyes widened. Wait a second, how, what the hell… _ What was going on? _He couldn't remember what he'd eaten for breakfast this morning, the color of his underwear, even his own name! What was-"

"Ah, good. You're up. Took you long enough," a warm voice rang out.

Mike looked up, startled. Then his jaw fell.

Crouched mere steps from him, was the strangest girl he could ever remember seeing (wait, he couldn't remember any girls… but he knew she was strange? What?) She was balanced on the balls of her feet, clad in a curious form of school uniform. It looked like the kind off of raggedy extra that students were forced to wear if they'd misplaced their usual suit. Except, in place of a skirt, she wore many-pocketed jeans.

And while she smiled at him, she was casually adjusting the position of a shining, poised sniper rifle.

Mike scurried away from the apparition, feeling his back scrunch up against a wall. He pushed himself up shakily. "What… what are you…"

"Howdy, I'm Winifred. Or as most people call me, Fred. I'm the leader of our group here, the Afterlife Battlefront." She frowned reflectively, her short noise scrunching. "Well, at least, that's what it was called yesterday. I think it might be the Dominators United Battlefront, or maybe we agreed it be Guerrilla Battlefront. I can't quite remember, but…"

She glanced back at her weapon, and adjusted, refining its aim at a low courtyard that lay below them. "Hey, this is kinda short notice, but would you consider working with us? We can always use more people. There's no entry fee-"

Mike blubbered. Who on earth was this chic? This looked like a school, in the night air he could still make out the shapes of several looming school buildings. What did she need a weapon for? And join what, the psycho killers club?

He walked towards her cautiously, speaking softly (he'd heard that that could calm dangerous animals). "Hey, calm down man, hang on. What are you talking about?"

Winnie pointed down simply. At the bottom of the stairs, slowly traversing the moon-lit courtyard was a young girl, around their age.

She was petite, with long straight hair, and an expressionless face of innocence. As they watched, she stopped, and looked around with a gravity strange for someone so young.

"_That,"_ Winnie hissed, "Is the enemy. Angel. In this world, you must fight. If you don't fight, if you follow Angel, you will be obliterated."

Mike's eyes widened, and looked at the sniper, becoming angry. "Are you crazy? You're not actually thinking of shooting her, are you?"

"Well, she hasn't made a move yet, but-"

"I won't let you! This is ridiculous!" he looked around frantically. 'There has to be someone around here who has some sense."

As he spoke, they heard the sound of trotting footsteps approaching in the night. A lanky, grinning youth burst out from under a lamplight, waving at them. "Ah Fred! How's it going recruiting the new guy?"

No. That's it for me. Mike started jogging down the stairs, shaking his head. "I'm out of here."

He bounded down onto the courtyard, and made his way to the would-be target. She held him in a steady beam of hazel eyes as he approached.

"Hey, hey!" he exclaimed as he reached her, gasping for breath. "You, you're in trouble. There are these nut jobs up there. I'm sure, but I think they might be trying to shoot you! They said something crazy, something about how you were an angel!"

She tilted her head as she replied in a subdued, low tone. "I'm not any kind of Angel. " She paused. "I'm the Student Body President.'

He snorted. "Thought it was something like that. Idiots."

He patted his light brown hair heavily. "Aw geez… I don't feel so good; I think I might have hit my head. I can't remember anything. Do you know where the hospital is?"

She continued to gaze at him, unblinking. "There are no hospitals."

He paused. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"There are no hospitals. No one ever becomes sick."

"What the hell does that mean? Why wouldn't people get sick?"

The moon broke out of the clouds overhead, casting the pair of them in an ethereal silver glow. The girl was still, her hair blowing softly in the night breeze. She spoke softly, so that Nick could barely hear.

"No one becomes sick, because everyone is dead."

Michael stumbled back, hackles rising as he tried to cover his shock. "Wha- Hey, you're in on this too! What's up with you guys, what are you trying to pull? Are you why I can't remember anything past five minutes ago?"

There was no reply.

"Hey, answer me! If we're all dead, then prove it!"

The girl hesitated, and then nodded slightly. She stepped towards him slowly. He quickly scrambled backward, just in time to hear her utter a curious phrase.

"_Guardskill: Hand Sonic."_

As she spoke, a breeze whipped up, and in that sudden gust, something incredible occurred. The air around the girl, "Angel's" hand shimmered, and what appeared to be code, streams of 1's and 0's, all twirled around in a blue vortex. They quickly conjoined, and in a brilliant burst, a short blade appeared conjoined to her wrist, its polished surfaced winking at him in the moonlight.

Mike gapped, dumbfounded. "What… how?"

But before he could move, the girl flew at him, faster than he could imagine, and the icy blade plunged straight through his-

**A/N. Throughout this project I'm going to be recreating the story of Angel Beats in novel form. However, the original story was actually cut off, it was mean to be much longer. So I'll also be using this awesome chance to expand; with deeper stories behind more of the characters, more villains, and, well, more time spent on some of the relationships. You know who I'm talking about. Stay warm.**


	2. Chapter 2

Michael sat bolt upright, gasping for air. How, why, a dream?

He looked around, and his heart sank. He appeared to be in a school infirmary, with absolutely no recollection of how he'd ended up there.

Aw great, he moaned to himself. Am I sick? Because that was definitely a dream, that girl… this is just an insane dream-

He put his hand down by the side of his bed to get up, and felt something squelch beneath his palm. He glanced down casually.

Michael stumbled away gagging. His shirt from last night lay curled on the bed side table, drenched in blood.

The door flew open, a figure ducking in through the frame.

The boy straightened, leering at Mike as he appraised him. He twirled a terrifying instrument, some medieval form of axe that Mike would later learn was a halberd.

"So, you're the punk that offended Fred," the boy spat, a demonic grin planted at his shivering opponent.

Michael backed away, mind reaching limit of incomprehension. "Hey, easy man…"

The youth roared, raising the glistening blade over his head. "You idiot! Prepare to suffer for defiling the name of my beloved! RAAAAAAGH! DIE-DIE-DIE-DIE-DIE-DIE a hundred times!"

The maniac slowed, gasping. "Next time, remember to fear my wrath, peasant," he sneered, and left.

The clock on the wall ticked on.

Michael sat bolt upright, gasping for air. How, why, a dream? But this time, it only took a second for him scramble to his feet. The infirmary floor all around where he'd fallen was thick with left over blood, tracks of the overzealous avenger.

Mike gasped as the memory hit him. His hands flew to his chest, feeling all over as the memory of the strikes returned. He frowned, dumbfounded. His shirt had been torn to ribbons, but his chest… was perfect, not even a scar.

What on earth was going on. Where _was _he? Maybe I'm dreaming, Mike thought, relief bubbling up at the mention. The emotion quickly withered. No, but I've already died. And somehow, I remember that you're supposed to wake up when you die.

Hell, maybe? He glanced around the infirmary, and grimaced. Somehow, he doubted that Hell had motivational posters of kittens on the walls. Maybe I'm in heaven- no, no I guess not. Not when the resident angel uses me aa a blade sharpener.

Mike collapsed onto the floor. Valhalla, maybe? He felt his chin, and slumped in disappointment. But he didn't have a beard. He was sure that was a requirement.

For a moment, Mike could feel despair starting to take hold, and he hastily pushed it back down. No need crawl into a ball, just because my memory is full of holes and I don't know what's happening. Mike hopped up. Time to go exploring.

The exceedingly confused individual stumbled out of the infirmary and into the open school yard. The afternoon sun shone against him as his much-damaged shirt whipped in the gentle breezes.

He looked around. For a moment, amazement froze him in place. This was the largest school he'd ever seen. Tennis courts, baseball field, track… he shrugged his shoulders and gazed around, taking it in. There were building sprawled all around him, some massive and towering, others little more than sheds. He could make out the shape of a gymnasium, and what looked like dormitories.

A river wound along the side of the compound, and a ring of trees could be seen peeking out on the other side. Trees appeared to encircle the entire campus, and beyond them, lay mist.

"If this is a school, where is everybody?" Mike muttered to himself, making a game effort to mask his worry with practicalities. "Not even a teacher… Well, if that's the administrative office, then I can probably find someone there."

He entered, and quickly found what he was looking for.

Ah, the principal's office. He'll know what this place is.

He heard a bell ring outside on the campus, and the sound of great troops of people starting to switch classes.

Michael casually placed his hand on the door knob. There was a click.

He looked around, curious. His eyes bugged out of his head as a panel in the ceiling quickly slid back, and a gigantic hammer swung out.

With a shatter of glass, his crushed body was sent flying out the hallway's window.


	3. Chapter 3

When he finally awoke again, he simply lay, with his eyes clamped tight. Voices washed over him, and he was quite content to just lie on this… sofa thing, thank-you-very-much.

"How about you're the one about to die Battlefront?" a voice proposed.

"Eck, no, sounds like I'm about to die," a familiar voice declines. "But what about _you're _ the one about to die!"

"But that sounds like I'm the one about to die!" the first voice complained.

Mike ticked his eyes open a tad.

"Hey, hey, I got it," another voice said. Mike blearily identified him as the guy who'd came up him last night at the top of the stairs. He blurrily saw the figure poise dramatically. "The Flashback Battlefront!"

Those around him gave him dark looks. "I wish _this _was only a flashback," someone whispered.

"What about the young-hearts Battlefront!" another boy suggested. He was small, with a face dominated by nervous, shy eyes.

"Come on Luke, Sounds like something from the Hardy Boys," someone else dismissed. Mike recognized the original speaker, an intense looking individual with a long nose and penetrating eyes. "What about Blood-n-guts-n-glory Battlefront?"

"Wow, very creative Emmanuel," the familiar voice sighed.

Winifred leaned against the table at the front of the room, holding her chin thoughtfully. The junk of the desk, paper weights, old papers, and dusty photographs, plus the collection of diplomas decorating the walls of the large office, gave the impression that the room was intended to be used for an important teacher. The principal's office, Mike realized.

But now, there was no sign of any one over twenty. A ram-shamble collection of youths were all that inhabited the room, joking with each other, pushing each other around, each one wearing the unusual, substitute school uniform from before. Besides the jeans, the only exceedingly remarkable item of the dress were the badges on the sleeves,

"Battlefront: Rebels against God," read the tag.

The "flashback" member huffed, and tried again. "Ok, sheesh, someone's picky. What about Suicide Core Battlefront?"

Winifred scowled at him. "No way Harry, just because it's happened doesn't mean we accept it, remember?"

"This is so stupid," a low voice murmured. Mike had to start to sit up to see the speaker. There was an ominous girl lurking in the corner, her face concealed by a veil of dark hair and a scarf.

"Desperate Battlefront?" proposed another girl. She possessed short, prickly hair and leaned candidly against a table.

Winifred huffed, beginning to pace. "No, no, we're not desperate! Come on guys, this is important!" she paused. "Hey, the new guy's awake! Pretty quick, considering you were snapped in half when we found you outside. So, what do you think?"

Mike propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at the young commando incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

"Our name! You've had time enough to think of one. Come on moron, you have to have something."

Mike bristled. "Screw-you Battlefront."

The people around him jerked, affronted faces turning to him.

"Hey, watch it bub," Emmanuel snarled, waving his fist in Mike's direction. "Don't go disrespecting Fred."

Mike scrambled up, fists raised. The thought of actually fighting left him very nervous, but he felt trapped. "So? I don't have to go along with you crazies!" An idea finally occurred to him, based off of the memory of last night's conversation with Winnifred. Previously, he'd done his best to suppress all memories of the girl. "I'm going to go get obliterated. Whatever that means!"

"Interesting…" came a soft murmur. Another young man stepped towards Mike, a tall figure with wire-rimmed glasses. "You would risk obliteration… even though you haven't the slightest clue what happens after it?"

Mike lowered his arms, starring at his peer nervously. "What happens… after?" The figure nodded, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a casual movement. "Indeed. The afterlife.

"Most religions are divided on the matter. Some believe in reincarnation, that maybe our destination after this world is another life. Others believe in heaven, or some other world that we move on to. In any case, our presence here proves little. Only that we are dead, and that there is some form of deity, or God, who brought us here.

Michael hesitated, his breath slowing. "So, I am dead? I mean, I'm really dead."

Everyone nodded.

"We all are," Harry added with a rueful grin. "Thanks for the reminder."

Mike thought on this. Well, as he couldn't remember anything from his life, he supposed it wasn't a terribly big deal. It wasn't like he had memories to mourn over.

"Most of us are in the reincarnation camp," a massive, heavily muscled young man with caterpillar eyebrows added helpfully. "It just seems more exciting. "

"And that's why you don't want to be obliterated," Elliot continued, his face impassive. "You don't know what could happen. You could end up anywhere, anything could come next. You could end up reincarnated, not just as a human, but as a…"

"A barnacle!" the bright eyed boy, Luke, pointed out. "I wouldn't want to be a barnacle."

A barnacle? Mike wondered, thoughtful. That does sound dull.

"Yeah," Emmanuel snorted, disdainful. "You could reincarnate as a snail, or even a barnacle, and then get eaten!"

"Are barnacles edible?" the giant wondered.

"Some are. It depends on the genus," Elliot explained.

Harry rubbed his jaw. "I never knew that…" he muttered.

"This is so stupid…" the girl in the corner muttered again.

"Enough!" howled Winifred, eyes scrunched in frustration. "You guys are ridiculous."

Mike looked at her thoughtfully. "Is that true? About what could happen next?" he asked, as the noonday sun from outside filtered in around them.

She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with flame. "Doesn't matter. Religion: Buddhism, Islam, Christianity, it's all just something people made up. Even if there is a God, and I suppose there must be for us to be here, he has no power over us. And we don't have to follow him."

She suddenly straightened. "Instead, we will fight against him, and take control over our fates.

" You see, back when we were alive, we lived under death's shadow. Death could come for us at any time, and any moment. We couldn't avoid accidents, our lives were fragile. But it's different here.

She leaned in, her pale face flushed with intensity. "Here, _death has no power over us_. It appears that as long as we are not obliterated, we cannot leave this world. As long as we resist, then we remain. Because we cannot die, we are free to pursue the mission of the Battlefront. Our true cause, you will learn in time."

She stuck out a calloused hand. "And so, are you ready to join the, the…" she paused, her momentum flagging. "Uh, what are we called now?"

"Barnacle-Battlefront" Harry put in helpfully.

"Right, right, the distinguished Barnacle-Battlefront-"

CLONK.

Harry fell back against the wall, whimpering. "Nice kick," he moaned.

Winnie turned back to Mike, hands on hips. "Right." She took a breath, and returned her gaze to Mike. Everyone around Mike leaned in.

"So, what do you say? Will you join us in our crusade? Will you help us fight against God's angel? It's a hard fight, but together, we know eventually we will be victorious."

Mike starred back at her. He swallowed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well…"

The door flew open. The psycho from before, the one with the halberd, grinned from outside the door. "Ha! New guy, this isn't over yet. I'm about to whip-"

Everyone winced as a giant hammer suddenly displaced the youth's position from the door frame. With a crash, they heard him fly through the window.

Mike hurried to the window, in time to see his would-be assailant's body crashing down a slope. "Idiot. Fell for his own trap," Emmanuel snorted.

Sweet mercy, Mike shivered.

He felt someone punch his shoulder.

"So, what's it going to be?" Winnie inquired happily.

Mike turned around slowly, wincing. This was all rather sudden. He still wasn't even sure what was going on. "Uh, could I have some time to think it over?"

She smiled at him. 'Ehh, nah. I don't have that much patience."

He swallowed. Mike looked around cautiously; everyone was looking at him expectantly.

He hesitated, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Oh… all right. Fine."

Everyone immediately heaved a sigh of relief, smiling at him with easy grins.

Winnie walked up to him, and shook his hand with all the officiousness of a five star general. "Excellent. This is our headquarters, one of the few places we are safe from Angel. The password is 'melancholy melons.'"

He shook the proffered hand slowly, feeling something in him relax.

"This here is Harry," Winnie introduced, dragging the chuckling Battlefront member to her. "He's pretty lazy, but he can be useful on occasion."

"Yeah…." Harry laughed, and then choked. "Hey! That's not a compliment! "

He was summarily ignored as the massive youth looming to Mike's right was introduced. "This is Richard Lyons. He has a fifth degree in judo, so we call him Richie the fifth, out of respect."

"Nice to meet ya," Richie replied, shaking Mike's hand with surprising gentleness.

"Lurking beside you is Emmanuel."

Emmanuel raised a challenging eyebrow at the newcomer. "Don't mess with me, punk."

"Hey, uh, I'm not a punk…"

"The girl hiding in the shadows over in the corner is Hannah, the one who keeps on muttering 'this is so stupid.' I wouldn't mess with her either."

Hannah glowered at him; her sapphire blue eyes glittered from over her fluffy indigo scarf.

He waved at her tentively. "Oh, don't worry, I won't, I mean, I wouldn't-"

"This joker right here is Luke," Harry added, grabbing the innocent looking youth from the outskirts of the crowd. "He's exceptional, in that, well, we haven't found anything exceptional in him yet."

Luke stuttered a frantic greeting.

Winifred smirked. "That guy over there, the one who keeps straightening his glasses to look smart, that's Elliot. He's actually an Idiot, by the way."

Elliot frowned at him, started to push up his spectacles, and then quickly took his hand down.

Emmanuel pointed out the window. "That moron who just went flying _was _Jake… he should be fine."

Another girl in a uniform similar to Winifred's approached Mike, the one who had proposed desperate Battlefront. "I'm Hayley," she introduced, nodded at Mike with one cool gesture.

"She's the leader of our diversion unit."

One last figure swung into view. He hadn't said anything throughout all that had occurred, but had instead been in what seemed to be in a constant state of motion. He swayed, tapped, and spun as he muttered indistinct phrases to himself, swinging to a beat only he could hear.

"Dude, feel the grove, man," he moaned, jazzing up next to Mike for a beat, and then jumping back.

"That's TK. He's cool," Winnie explained briefly.

Mike gazed at him in awe. "Just how high is this guy?"

Winifred pumped her fist. "Well, that's everyone in the combat division. There are a few other people around the school, involved in other goals."

She grabbed Mike by the shoulder, and began to drag him bodily out of the room. "Now come on! There's a lot you need to be filled in on, and I'm tired of being indoors."

The clock on the wall ticked slowly, the flickering red minute hand dancing around its plain white face.

Angel stared at it, her face impassive.

"-and that's why we need to tighten dress code regulations, regarding the usual "Friday free-and-easies". I suggest… hey! Mrs. President, are you listening to me?" the school boy protested, putting down his rod as he turned away from his PowerPoint.

She nodded, shifting her eyes to the student. "Yes. You were protesting the deviations of some students from dress code policy. If it is school regulation, then I shall see it enforced," she agreed softly.

"Ah, yes… thank you, Mrs. President," the student council member apologized quickly, ears burning under the admonishing glares of his peers.

"And, if I may, the worst infractions are usually from the same people. Those… delinquents, you know, the ones who…"

As the boy was speaking, his voice sputtered out, as a haze of confusion filled him. None of the other council members spoke, each one appearing just as befuddled.

Finally, they resurfaced, like clockwork machines rewound.

"There is a movement among the students to replace the limeade in the vending machines," another student council member spoke, as if they had been discussing beverages for the last ten minutes. "Limey-lime soda has been proposed."

Angel turned away from the proceedings again. She returned her cherubic gaze out the window, where the school's dormitories squatted in the sun light.

"The rule breakers will be punished," she murmured. "It is my duty."

"Soon, they will meet justice."


	5. Chapter 5

One bumpy and hectic journey later, Mike found himself blinking in the day light, squinting on top the building's roof. He stopped to regain his breath, then hesitantly followed his guide across the roof's edge, where a considerable drop yawned out in front of them, the sprawling campus stretched out before them.

"So… this is a school?" he asked. He was beginning to find that stating the obvious, while seriously making him feel like an idiot, seemed to be the only safe thing to say in these situations.

"Apparently. Weirdest afterlife I've ever heard of. Honestly, I went through high school once before, and I can't say I'm glad that I had to come back," she explained, tossing Mike a drink.

"So, you remember your life before coming here?"

"Of course, most of us do. However, you case has happened before. It generally occurs when someone suffered brute trauma in their death, possibly to the head."

She took a sip from her fizzing beverage. "It should go away though… eventually."

He nodded hopefully, gazing out over the vista before him with uncontainable awe. The school was beautiful, trees, gardens, and flowers blossomed along every path. The courtyards and walkways were patched with earthy red bricks, and simple patterns.

Directly below them, a gym class was struggling on the track, jogging, jumping, and chatting as the gym teacher blew a whistle frantically. Seemed like a normal class to him.

"If they're only a few humans here, who's everyone else?" he asked, blinking at her.

She slurped at him reflectively. "They're NPC's. We usually ignore them."

He gaped at her, for some reason, he immediately knew what an NPC was. "Non-Player Characters?" he asked, doubtful. "But, that's a video game term! These are people!"

"Well, yes, and no. They certainly are human, in most ways," she explained, gesturing down vaguely.

"If you talk to one, do they always give the same reply?"

"Ha! No, they're not that crude. They're normal people, normal school children. For example, if you suddenly walk up and kiss a girl, one of two things will happen."

Winnie eyed Mike. "Depending on the girl, she'll either blush and run away, or smack you to pieces. "

He coughed. "Oh. I see. So, they're very realistic."

"However, if you pointed a gun at one, things would mess up," Winnie continued. "Normalhigh schoolers don't deal with violence; it's not part of the pattern. The NPC wouldn't know how to react, if you threatened one, it just become confused." She hesitated. "Uh, not like I've threatened many, of course. They're kinda like animals. They're not _real_, so we ignore them, but they are still technically human, so we can't hurt them."

Mike nodded, leaning against the roof's rail. "I think I get it. Is Angel an NPC as well?"

Winnie's expression darkened. She drummed her fingers on the rail. "We don't know. Even NPC's show more emotion, more humanity than _her. _She certainly acts like a normal student. She's Student Body President, the most perfect, responsible student imaginable. The difference is, as an angel, she has gifts from God, apparently to help her rule this world. Listen now, this is important. You must not take this school seriously. Don't go to class; join a club, or any of that. Anyone who gives in, and goes along with _Angel_, is obliterated. They just… disappear."

Mike swallowed, his breathing quickening as he remembered the feel of her blade sliding through his chest. "Is she always… so violent?"

Winnie threw the can over the edge in a gesture of contempt.

"She's God's Angel. It's her job to make sure that we follow the rules, or in this case, the school rules. And yes, she does what is necessary to enforce the rules. She has guard skills, techniques that allow her to bend the reality of this world."

She raised her eyebrows at Mike. "If she catches you, it's curtains. She's wicked fast and deadly with her blade. When she closes in, she cuts off all the escape routes, and then… you don't want to know what happens next. It isn't pretty."

Mike nodded quickly. "Ok, I'll take your word for it. Just one last question, promise."

A cloud passed over the sun, sending nuanced shadow racing across the rooftop. Mike shifted on his feet, trying to maintain his balance.

"It's about God. Is he real? And, why are you all fighting against him?"

Winifred went still. "Oh yeah. _He's _out there, though he hasn't found any of us worthy to actually come and show his face. He's just left us in this little world he's cooked up."

Her mouth tightened. "As for our reasons for fighting, it's different for all of us. If you ever really get curious enough to care, you can ask, I guess. But whatever the reason, the result is the same.

"We aren't going to let _him _rule us. In this world, no one can tell us how to live, and how to die. Someday, we'll defeat Angel. And then… this world will be all to ourselves."

At this Winnie chuckled, with the tone of someone who has had a lot of time to think.

All right, Michael thought to himself, quietly watching the gym class below them head back inside. I'm even more confused then I was before. This world is fantastically unreal. Avenging Angels, humans who are only partly human. Right. The best course of action, in this shaky scenario, is to simply play it slow, he reasoned to himself.

I don't know yet what to make of this. I definitely don't know if I _really _want to go along with these people, they all do seem like lunatics. Pretty nice lunatics, though. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Soon, Mike found himself once more in the "Headquarters," the others all filtering in from wherever they had been goofing off at. From the abundant mustard stains over Emmanuel and Luke's uniforms, Mike surmised that somewhere out there was a working cafeteria.

"Thank goodness," he murmured, plopping down on a couch in the middle of the room as Winifred went up to fiddle with something at the desk. "I feel incredibly hungry… Why would I be hungry if I'm dead?"

"It's weird, yeah," Harry yawned from beside him, already in full sprawl over the cushions. "We have to sleep, as well. To be honest, not much has changed. It's not like we have superpowers or anything."He frowned. "Unfortunately. Personally, I'd have loved x-ray vision, but…"

"I'd have loved to fly," Luke said wistfully, coming up behind them. "And I don't know… Winifred's been here so long, when she fights, sometimes it seems like she _is _superhuman, she-"

A rippling shot rang out, causing Mike to jump a whole foot in the air. While the others stood around unconcerned, he whirled to the front of the room. Winnie was regarding a smoking pistol thoughtfully.

"Here," she said, offering it to him. "Even complete amateurs like you should be able to handle something simple like this. If you're going to be of any use to the combat division, you need to get practicing though."

Mike took it as one would accept the offer of a sleeping cobra. He hated guns.

"You got that look, Fred." Emmanuel observed huskily, eyebrows bouncing. "What's tonight's plan?"

"Welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games," TK hummed, twirling by the window. Hannah stepped out of his way nimbly, her scarf fluttering.

In response to the question, Winnie went and flicked off the lights. In the sudden twilight darkness, she pulled down a projector screen behind the desk, and flicked on a small projector (presumably liberated from a classroom).

Behind her, a revolving image of the logo from the uniforms, a clenched fist above the words 'Rebels against God," spun. Fred took her position in front of the screen, fingers steepled dramatically.

"Tonight's activity… will be a mission!" she announced.

Wow, Mike thought. They've put a lot into this little war.

"The mission will be simple, one you've all done before, to help the amateur."

Richie the fifth slapped Mike on the back companionably. Mike spent the next minute recovering, and could barely hear what Fred said next.

"Tonight, we will proceed with… Operation Tornado!"


	6. Chapter 6

Winnie scanned from her position on the balcony. Below her, scores of students milled around, chatting, flirting, engaged in the general dinnertime mob. She looked around to ensure everyone was in position.

All around the perimeter of the dining hall floor, she saw technical team members in position. At the front of the cafeteria, some Battlefront members were engaged in getting the distraction prepared. Sitting with three other girls, legs crossed, Hayley waited, surrounded by a protective barricade of Battlefront members.

"_Everyone is in position on the outside_," a calm voice alerted on her headset. She looked across the balcony. At the far end, their blonde haired head of communications, Bridget, gave her a thumbs up.

Excellent, Winnie though. Let's give the Student Body President something to get upset about.

"All right," she muttered into the headset. "Tell the diversion team that we're a go. And tell the safety team to be ready-once this starts, Angel's going to be on us like a dog."

The dining students talked and laughed in one continuous roar, the sounds leaping off the extensive walls and ceiling of the gorgeous, sweeping glass-and-steel cafeteria. Suddenly, they gasped as the lights all flickered out.

It was dark for a moment, and the room was alive with surprised murmurs. There was a click.

At the front of the cafeteria, the platform where the stairs led up to the balcony had been completely cordoned off. At the click, blinking, soaring floodlights zipped on, illuminating the figures standing posed on the platform.

"Hey-It's GirlDeMo!" came a cry.

On the stage, Hayley grinned an entrancing smile, lighting fingering her rhythm guitar in readiness. She glanced around her.

"You guys ready?" She questioned, red hair burning in the blinding illumination.

Beside her, the lead guitarist smirked, dark eyes dancing over the crowd. "You know it sister. Let's kill this."

"Ok. All right guys, on four. One, two, three…"

A wall of sound leapt out over the cafeteria, crashing drums pounding alongside the fly of guitar riffs, and the roaring chug of the bass. The crowd went wild; hands flying into the air, cries meshing into the music.

And then, Hayley's voice joined in, sounding over the vibrant roars.

"_There's a wall of shutters behind me, I'll move ahead with steel fingertips, play through a crowded sea. Rock on, play on, all to find what I'm looking for. Won't you look at me, can you tell me there's NOTHING MORE!"_

Mike craned his head, listening. Music came lilting out to him, dancing on the cool night air, still clear all the way from the cafeteria.

He rechecked his ammo for the 42nd time and glanced back at the area he had been assigned: a small, remote path a ways from the cafeteria. There wasn't much change of seeing any action here, he had been told.

I hope so, he thought to himself, shivering as a breeze blew through him. I wouldn't know what to do if-

The clouds shifted, and the moon slid out, filling the night scene will soft silver illumination. He frowned. There was some form of odd shadow growing on the bridge in front of him, a silhouette, with a twisting top. He looked up, and froze.

Angel stood calmly on the structure's other side, her breeze-tossed hair casting the twisting shadow. From across the expanse, she simply looked at him, her luminous hazel eyes glowing like a wolves. Then, she began to walk towards him.

He jumped back, shaking all over, gun trained on her. But the action did nothing to slow her.

Crap! He thought, cursing. She went for the weakest person… I, I can't shoot her, she's just a girl, she looks so normal, except…

Remember what she did to you, he reminded himself, clenching his teeth. This is no ordinary girl. And you have a job, you can't let her through.

With eyes almost closed in reluctance, he fired. His eyes flew open.

Angel had stopped. As Mike watched in horror, a pool of red formed on her stomach. She put her hand to the wound softly.

No! He had meant to shoot her in the leg! He hung his head, eyes burning. I, I suck… he cursed himself, shame swamping him.

"_Guardskill: Hand sonic_"

He looked up, unbelieving. Incredibly, Angel had straightened up. And she was walking towards him again, a glistening blade winking at him from her right arm.

Mike's shock quickly soured into terror. He stumbled back, firing, firing again. But Angel, she _deflected _the shots, her blade moving impossibly fast, metal screeching on metal as the bullet was taken out.

No, no, it was impossible, _this girl was impossible_! But she continued, steadily advancing, her eyes never leaving Mike's frightened oval face.


	7. Chapter 7

"_How long will I exist? Will I ever find those I love, those I miss? You may try to cage my soul, take my will. but on midnight wings I'll live every thrill!" _

Hayley panted, sweat dripping from her forehead as her fingers worked her guitar. Around her, her companions efforts had reached similar levels of exertion. The guitarist, Jess, bit her tongue as she tore along, her body pulsing in time to her bass's beat.

Around them, the crowd's excitement had grown exponentially. All were standing, the tables had all been abandoned for the crowed cafeteria floor, dinner lay forgotten.

Winnie smirked down upon them. Things were almost ready. If those dunderheads could just buy a little more time, they would be successful.

Mike stopped backing up, his back suddenly pressed up against the cafeteria's wall. His gun clicked, he was empty.

His eyes widened, face frozen as a deer in the headlights. He was only able to watch as his doom glided closer to him, stepping onto the cafeteria pavilion with determined pace.

I have to do something, he thought furiously. Maybe, if I rush her-"

"Hey man! Sorry we're late!" came a cry. Harry, Richie the fifth, Emmanuel, and Luke came sprinting around the corner of the buildings.

"Aw, she went for the weakest link!" Emmanuel snorted dismissively, as they fanned out around Angel, eyes set as they took aim.

"This ends here! Ready guys?" Harry called.

"_Guardskill: Distortion," _Mike faintly heard Angel murmur.

"Go!" Richie roared, blasting his shotgun.

A storm of bullets tore through the air, Mike watched in horror as they collided.

-And missed. All of them. As the Battlefront continued to fire, Mike noticed that the air around Angel appeared to be _shaking, _as if it was undertaking the force of the shots.

A loud ping from above announced the arrival of Elly's sniper rifle, but the shot simply glanced off Angel's curious shield like all the rest. Angel, whose advance had been halted in the assault, continued to stare at her attackers.

A twirling object suddenly hurtled toward angel, but with a flick of her blade, it was sent spinning off into the darkness.

Jake gazed after his halberd in extreme frustration.

There was a lull in the blasts, and, Mike noticed with horror, Angel quickly began to advance once more. There was a glint. Hannah sprung up out of nowhere, her onrush utterly silent as she flew at Angel, knives shining.

But Angels somehow knew the danger. At the last possible moment, she spun, her blade sending a violent parry into Hannah, who took the blow and quickly spun to the ground beside Angel, sparks flying as the two rained blows one each other. Hannah's face, usually expressionless, was flushed with determination.

"Hannah!" someone yelled in warning. Instantly, she sprung away from her opponent, just in time to avoid the sudden renewed wave of munitions, bearing down onto Angel like a rockslide.

But she endured it, the curious ability still sending the missiles flying off in all directions around her. And, as if fighting against much momentum, she began to advance.

So this is what they have to deal with, Mike realized shakily. How can they hope to fight her, if she really does have divine powers?"

"We can't mess up this mission!" Harry yelled, worry evident in his cry.

"We won't get any food!" Luke added, worry _very _evident.

The notion seemed to send a wave throughout the battling members.

"No food?" Richie the fifth contemplated, face turning apple green. "Inconceivable!"

With a roar, the judo expert pulled a large object from its harness around his back.

"Eat this!" he cried, and ignited the rocket.

The air around them imploded as the explosion blew them backward, all music from inside momentarily blocked, replaced by a ringing in their ears as they struggled to their feat.

Angel stood in the bottom of a crater, the only evidence of the conflagration she'd endured a small flame burning on hem of her shirt.

"Nuts! This chick drives me crazy!" Emmanuel spat, as they resumed their barrage.

"_And I hear the crows overhead. I just laugh, because I'm… not… Dead!_"

Winnie felt a buzz on her intercom.

"The concert has reaches its peak," came Bridget's calm voice. "The crowd is at the pinnacle of distraction."

Winnie grinned, her smirk a white slash in the flashing dark of the cafeteria's darkness. She looked down at the writhing masses below her. "Excellent. Good work, everybody. Tell them to turn them on."

At her command, there was a series of clanks from the main floor, largely covered up by the pounding music. The clanks became roars as the series of air conditioning fans positioned by their members all around the room's perimeter roared to life. Tornado-worthy winds spiraled all throughout the cafeteria.

Hair flowing, few of the concert-goers even noticed. They continued to move in time to the rocking music. As the wind kicked up, objects began to slide.

As Winnie watched, gleeful, the lunch money left on the tables, peeking out of pockets, and clenched in the student's fists, was ripped away from their blissfully unaware persons. The currency was sent spiraling up into the air. Some it flew up to the roof and some sailed out the skylight.

Mike looked up, disbelieving. It was snowing, a rain of fluttering pale bank notes spun down all around him, slitting past his wide-eyed face. Holding up a hand, he gently took one out of the air.

At the appearance of the food money, the guns shut off immediately. Grabbing the few twenties that they'd need, everyone ran back from their opponent.

"Here, this'll do you," Harry said, dumping a pile of crumpled bills onto Mike. "Now let's go!"

As they fled from the cafeteria, Mike looked back.

Angel stood watching them go, silent.


	8. Chapter 8

They came to stop in a stand of bushes.

"Well, that went well," Luke observed happily.

"Eeeeasy liiiiven, and I beeeen forgiven…" TK agreed.

Mike gawked at them. "What are you talking about? We were almost killed!"

"Ah, but we weren't," Emmanuel pointed out with satisfaction. "That's something to brag about. Of course, when being killed isn't permenant, _you could say_ that we're not as careful to avoid death as we would be. But, actually, we all still try pretty darn hard. Because death is still excruciatingly painful."

Mike's shoulders hunched. "Oh. That's right."

Hannah checked her watch. "We can go now," she said silently, stealing away into the night. The rest quickly followed.

Mike gasped yet again as he recognized the building they were entering. "But, but, why here? Isn't this extremely dangerous?"

With guiding hands, Harry guided him a door to the side of the cafeteria, and they found themselves in the kitchen. Winnie and the rest of the Battlefront waved at them as they entered.

"Because we're starving!," Harry finally replied after they had all bought their food and sat. Mike was surprised and secretly relieved to find that the lunch ladies were lacking wings and haloes. Instead they possessed hair nets and arms the size of meat cleavers. "We're totally safe."

"But, but, won't Angel track us down?"

"I'm sure Angel is plenty busy cleaning up the mess we made in the eating section of the cafeteria," Winnie snorted from across from them at the simple linoleum table. "And why would she attack us now? We're just eating, after all, like normal students."

He nodded. "Oh. So that's how it works..."

Mike looked around. In the clean fluorescent light, all of the youths of the Battlefront talked around him, snarfing down cafeteria food, laughing about their victory. At a table near the door, Hayley was engaged in some form of earnest discussion with her band mates. Hannah sat in a corner by herself, seeming quite content, as she tucked into a plate of spaghetti with gusto. In front of him, Luke and Richie were engaged in a hot-dog devouring contest, Luke somehow managing to hold his own.

They seem like normal people, Mike thought. What on earth could be pushing them to fight so hard?

He scratched his chin. An ember of excitement burned at the base of his spine. Well. I suppose I should at least stick around long enough to find out.

The cafeteria lay in shambled. The other students had departed soon after GirlDeMo had packed up, and had left behind the after-math of the concert. Posters and notices had been torn from the walls. The dinner tables were in chaos. The floor was littered with loose paper, muddy footprints, and the other results of the act of rebellion.

The study body president surveyed the scene. Her eyes were unblinking as they passed over the wreckage. The student council trembled behind her.

"This is simply intolerable," Vice president Lecher growled. Teeth grit, he stamped the ground. "These _delinquents_ have simply gone too far. Their actions are a work against the school." He glanced at the student body president; the other council members followed suit. "What's your opinion, Madam President?"

For a moment, she was silent. As they watched, she carefully removed a poster from the floor. With steady hands, it was reaffixed to the wall.

"I will do what is necessary," Angel said. She turned, speaking from a face as frozen as glass. "I will not let them hurt themselves. I will not let them stray from the narrow path."

Her hands lightly brushed the side of her torn dress. Drops of crimson bled onto her hand. "The wayward ones have the ability to obstruct the proper order. Tomorrow, I will take this from them."

**End of Mission One**

**A/N. A resounding thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read this adaption. There's more adventures on the way. Stay warm. **


	9. Chapter 9

Birds chirruped melodically in the morning air, going about their business with efficiency. The warming sun twinkled off a two parallel streams of water. Two waterfalls followed the stairs down to the track. Across the grounds, the building's foundations groaned as they warmed.

Mike stretched. After last night, today should be an easy day, he reasoned. And good thing too. I need to take the time to go familiarize myself with this place, and get to know these people better. Maybe-"

"All right," Winnie said, slapping her palms down on the principal's commandeered desk. "Last night's mission was a success. Our supplies have been replenished."

The assembled members of the Battlefront cheered. Richie the fifth licked his lips contentedly.

"But there is an issue. After last night's skirmish, our ammunitions have run dangerously low. So, today we will undergo operation: parachute!"

There came a collective groan.

Mike's mind spun. Operation… parachute? As it had with operation tornado, a vivid image sprung up in his mind, of him being chucked out of a plane and sent hurtling to the ground.

He shivered.

"But we were planning on breaking into the gym room and stealing some stuff for baseball!" Harry complained.

As the shutters were drawn, screen was pulled down, and lights dimmed, Fred frowned at the dissenter. "It is vital that we be prepared to fight at all times, moron. So shut the pie-hole, before I close it."

"But, but… why do we need to parachute?" Mike asked quietly. "I don't even know how to-"

"Today, we will parachute to the depths of the Guild," Fred explained, pacing in front of the screen. An exceedingly complicated schematic appeared, of an incomprehensible warren of tunnels, passages, and sewers. Mike squinted at in scrutiny, but it was quickly replaced with a table of different weapon types and their ammunition requirements.

"Hang on, hang on. We're going underground? And what's the Guild?"

Elliot stood, shoulders straightened dramatically. "The Guild is the breadbasket of the Battlefront," he explained. "It is essentially a manufacturing center, carefully hidden from divine forces deep in the recesses of this school's subterranean system, where the majority of our weapons are manufactured."

Hayley rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the ear-bleed, Elly." She smiled at Mike. "Pretty much Mike, it's where all our technically gifted members-'

"Geeks," Emmanuel snorted.

"_Essential _members," she continued, "work to create our weapons, ammunitions, and whatever else we may need that we can't find in the school."

"Hold on, hold on," Mike put down, looking around. "A _factory_? Beneath a school? You can't be serious. How could you manufacture things?"

Fred groaned in exasperation, tapping her laptop impatiently. "Grr… Mike, you need to be more flexible. Any chance of you just accepting it and going along with it?"

He frowned at her, doing his best to look tough.

"This is so stupid…" Hannah muttered

"Hmmph. Whatever. TK, could you go show him?" Winnie sighed.

Before Mike could say anything, TK threw his leader a salute, and vaulted out the window.

They heard his rough voice singing away as he sprung to a stop, then it faded as he danced away.

They didn't have to wait long. Seconds later, TK burst once more through the door, spinning. He came to a rest in front of Mike, and knelt, face inscrutable behind his red bandana.

Mike stood, uncertain. There appeared to be something held in TK's palmed hands. He leaned in closer. Huh. It was dirt.

TK smiled, and might have winked, it was hard to tell. Straightening up, he began to compress the dirt between his heavy palms. He twisted and twisted, and as he worked, he whistled. "_Take a sad song, and make it beeeeetter." _

He soon finished twisting. Mike jerked back, startled, as TK suddenly put his hand around his neck.

But instead of feeling the twinkle of soil, a sudden weight was placed around his neck.

He fingered his neck, in awe. TK had given him a necklace, with a worn leather loop, and a carved wooden peace sign.

"How…" he asked.

"This world is special," Luke replied softly.

Winnie nodded. "It's true. In most ways, this place resembles any normal high school. But, it isn't. This is the afterlife."

She hesitated, seeming uncertain. "Not long after I arrived here, I discovered something unusual. In this world, we have the power to create. Anything we want, as long as we know how to make it, we can make from dirt."

The power to create? Mike wondered. "But… that makes us…"

"It does seem odd, yeah, that God would give us powers like his." She frowned again, eyes searing. "But it doesn't make up for the rest. We use this power to the best of our advantage. Those who are familiar with the construction of weapons work in the Guild, where they make them on a mass scale. The Guild's location is kept secret, to keep it from Angel. Obviously, if she were to reach our center of war, we would have no method of defeating her."

"No more questions!" she called. "Operation parachute: Start!"

Mike carefully aimed his gun at the entrance to the auditorium, looking outside anxiously as his friends behind him worked. There was no sign of her…

"All right, it's ready!" Richie called. They had pulled away a section of the base of the stage, revealing a dark nook. Mike appraised it doubtfully.

"Right! Everyone set?" Winnie called.

Harry scratched his head. "Hey… has anyone seen Jake?"

"That moron. Probably still sulking bout getting his halberd scratched last night."

"Whatever," Winnie dismissed. "No time to wait for him." And, one by one, they crouched into the nook, and descended the concealed ladder beyond.

Mike struggled down the rungs, hands reaching for invisible holds in the darkness. As he fell, the air grew cold, and as clammy as a skeleton's grasp.

With a grunt, he jumped off the ladder to join back with the party. Thankfully, the tunnel, a long, straight path supported by wooden beams, was lit by old lamps, illuminating-

"Hold it right there…" a voice called out from the murky glow.

"Aw geez…" Emmanuel groaned.

Jake stepped from the shadows. "You! New guy! I haven't accepted you as part of the Battlefront yet!"

Everyone groaned. "It's this moron," Emmanuel grumbled.

Mike glared back at his challenger. "Oh yeah? I don't need your acceptance."

Jake laughed manically; teeth glinted with menace as he drew near, halberd twirling expertly. "Is that so? In that case, I'll just have to show you a little-'

The remainder of his speech was cut off by the arrival of a massive hammer connecting with his head.


	10. Chapter 10

The poor boy slammed into a rock walls, bones cracking, and had begun to slide down when the hammer caught up with him, crashing into the wall with a thud. When it departed for another pendulum swing, what had been Jake continued on its path to the ground, now accompanied by a small avalanche of displaced rocks that entombed him. Soon only his glittering blade stuck out of the rubble.

"Positions!" Winnie called out urgently. The Battlefront immediately sprung into defensive postures, Hannah crouched, knives out, Emmanuel bent his knees, fists ready, and Richie scanned the tunnel ahead, his shotgun aimed.

"Get down," Harry urged from beside Mike, forcing him onto his knees.

"_What's going on_?" he hissed, looking around the empty tunnel.

"It would appear the Guild's Anti-Angel traps have been activated," Elliot noted testily.

"The Guild has a system of vicious traps to deter Angel, kept all throughout this tunnel system. They were supposed to be deactivated for our visit today. If the Guild members have seen fit to reactivate them, it can mean only one of two things. They're trying to kill us…"

"Let's not even go there, okay?" Luke moaned.

"…or, it could mean something else. That Angel is down here."

They were silent.

"Do we leave?"

"No," Winnie declared, suddenly striding on ahead. "We can't. If we do, we risk Angel uncovering the Guild, and that would mean the destruction of our weapons. We have to intervene. Come on!"

They trekked for a number of minutes along the ramrod straight passage, their tension building every foot.

At the front of the group, Hannah sprung from spot to spot with a cat's grace, occasionally stopping, head cocked, to listen.

"So… just what kind of traps _are _there?" Mike asked quietly, his hushed tone bouncing off the tunnel walls like a waterfall.

From beside him, Elliot replied in confident tones. "We have the capability of creating any sort of thing we can think off, and the Guild members are quite creative. So there are a lot of traps, of a variety of designs. Most of which are extremely deadly. But don't worry, we should be perfectly fine."

At that moment, Luke stepped down on a floor board, and it sunk in with a barely audible hiss.

Hannah froze immediately, ears quivering. She whirled around.

"It's coming!" she cried. "Move!"

She began to sprint down the passage, the others struggling to keep up. Mike pumped his arms, attempting to figure out what was going on through the roar of their pounding feet, and, and some other roar, growing louder.

He glanced behind him, and his eyes bugged out.

A colossal round stone bore down on them, rolling down the hall with a crunch of shredded wood, its behemoth mass ripping through the floor as it sped, catching up to them every second.

"GANG-WAY!" Emmanuel cried, as they fled, arms flailing, legs spasming.

The stone killer bore closer, until the heat of its movement could be felt on the back of Mike's neck. Ahead of them, he saw Hannah duck into an alcove on the side of the passage, pull Luke in with her, and urgently gesture for the rest to follow.

Mike panted, seeing the escape draw closer and closer. But the stone felt literally feet behind him; wood chips peppered his back. A little bit behind him, Elliot was sprinting as if his life depended on it. A good assumption, as the death of him was inches behind him. They weren't going to make it, Mike realized.

He felt someone abruptly grab him around the waist. He and Harry tumbled down, rolling in their momentum to the far wall of the passage. Eyes clamped shut, he felt the whistle of wind as the stone rolled right over them, their lives only spared by the inches given by the curvature of the sphere.

They lay, gasping. He faintly heard Elliot's cry of panic over the crunch of the death ball, and nothing but more crunching.

Harry helped Mike up.

"Thanks," Mike gasped. "I really thought we weren't going to make it." He looked around. "Is everyone else okay?"

As the surviving members of the Battlefront peaked out, Harry nodded in welcome.

As Harry wiped the last bit of grime of his cheeks, their eyes met. "Honestly, I'm just really glad that _you're _okay," Harry confessed, smiling at Mike. "I don't know how I would have felt if you'd been hurt."

Mike raised his brow. "Uh. As a matter of curiousity, what is your romantic alignment?"

"WHAT!? Come on man, stop looking so far into this-"

"Come on you dufuses," Winnie called, waving from the alcove. "We need to get moving. Maybe if we take this shortcut, we'll run into fewer traps."

As they walked through the dark passage, Winnie elbowed her way through the group, until she came to Luke's jittery figure. She stared at him ominously.

He smiled back at her, uncertain. "Anything I can do for you Fred?"

"Oh yeah. You helped the Guild design these tunnels, right?"

Luke's smile shrunk. "Uh, kinda." He ran a hand through his thick brown hair. "Well, actually… they just used me as a crash test dummy for the traps. It was horrible."

"Excellent! In that case, you should know where they all are, right?"

They entered another hallway, one that apparently ran parallel to the one before. But instead of resembling an abandoned mineshaft, this one would have better fit an episode of Star Trek. They looked around, brows raised. Glowing wall panels illuminated smooth chrome walls, and a steel floor.

Luke hesitated as he considered the question. "Um. Actually Fred, I kinda… tried to block out those memories, but-"

"Well un-block them," she insisted immediately, striding confidently alongside him. "That's an order."

Luke laughed in a small voice. "Ok. Ok, I think I got it-"

"WATCH OUT!" Hannah yelled from the vanguard. As they came to stumbling halt, the objects that had been concealed in the walls finished extending.

"WHAT THE HECK!" Emmanuel howled in panic, as the air suddenly came alive with lights. Laser blasters rapid-fired shots of heated death in all directions. The Battlefront members hopped to a sort of frenzied dance, skipping and leaping to avoid the blasts.

"_We're coming off the wheels of the crazy train!_" TK cried out happily, soaring from spot to spot, evading the attacks with ease as he spiraled in some convoluted waltz.

"BB-ZAP!" With a hiss, the attacks suddenly lessened. Hannah's knife flickered again as she deflected another beam, taking out the other blaster.

Everyone slowed to a stop. Harry stared wide eyed at a blast mark inches from his head. Richie the fifth frantically tried to quench a flame that had sprung up on the side of his wide pants.

Winnie narrowed her eyes at Luke. He looked back at her miserably.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, a lock of his hair burning cheerfully. "I'll remember the rest of them, promise."


	11. Chapter 11

They continued on, and just when Mike was beginning to wonder why operation parachute seemed to consist more of wandering through passages then actual descent, the neo-path they were on suddenly ended in a curious door.

The door's only feature was a submarine-esque porthole. Richie strained on it with his considerable girth, but it was no use. It was locked.

Emmanuel stepped towards it, cracking his knuckles. "Chill out guys, I got this," he breezed. "I didn't grow up in New York, and learn nothin'. I can break into or out of anything.

Luke slumped against a wall, and then sprang back with a yelp as there was a hiss. With a wheeze of hydraulics, a second door slammed down behind them, entombing them in the claustrophobic hallway.

"Oh no!" Luke cried, eating through his thumbnail. "I forgot to mention the door was booby-trapped."

"Don't forget important details," Winnie yelled, looking around frantically. The walls came alive with a ring of glittering red lights.

"Everyone get down!" Hannah yelled. They obediently dropped to the floor, just as they heard a hum run along the walls of the small room.

"What was that?" Mike asked.

In response, Hannah threw an item into the air. The smoke grenade detonated, filling the room with a thick layer of suffocating smog. Coughing, they got to their feet, and noticed the glittering red line illuminated in the gas, twinkling at them from the far end of the room.

"Laser cutter," Harry identified tensely. "One touch of that, and you get sliced through like butter."

"Thanks for that imagery, friend."

"Hey Emmanuel, how's it going with that door?" Winnie muttered. "If you don't -_It's going around for another round_!" As they watched, the laser line slid down, to around knee height. Then, as swift as a snake, it started forward.

"Everybody jump!" Winnie called. They leapt into the air, and the energy blade swept directly under them.

Mike squinted at the laser, trying to discern it through the smog.

His jaw dropped in frustration. _Another _laser had appeared, the two shifting to form a giant X, stretching across the entire room.

"Oh sweet potatoes..." he muttered.

"Every man for himself!" Winnie called, as the laser zoomed through them. Some flew right. Others tumbled left. Richie, unfortunately, was a bit too large to do either.

"SSSSCHHHLIZE"

"Door's open!" Emmanuel called. As one mob, they tumbled out of the room and into the roughly hewn rock tunnel beyond. Mike started to look back, but Harry caught him and dragged him on.

"That's not something you want to see," he cautioned. "But don't worry, Richie'll be fine."

After that, the path quickly began to drop. They crept down stairs, trekked down ladders, and slid down poles.

At one point, they paused, the stalactites around them dripping in a subterranean harmony. Distantly, they felt the earth shake beneath their feet.

'Another trap?" Mike asked cautiously.

Winnie's lips tightened. "No. Angel. We need to hurry."

The reduced group found an exit to the cavern, a small hole that led a simple, square room below. One by one, they dropped into it.

The room was pitch black; they had to stumble to make their way.

"Hang on," Luke called. "I think I remember there being a light switch around here somewhere. Ah! A string, here we go."

At once, brilliant light blinked on, flooding the room, revealing Luke standing with a dangling rope, grinning happily.

The roof groaned. As they looked up, it sunk a foot. Then another.

Luke's face turned green. "Wait a second. Oh nuts! This is the room where the roof falls, and crushes everyone-"

"Don't forget important details!" everyone cried, arms around heads, as the roof suddenly lost its hold on the walls and came hurtling down, bleak rock rushing towards them-

-And stopped, suddenly, inches from their heads.

TK grunted painfully. His entire body trembled as, through some incredible Atlasian force of will, he held up the roof.

"Go…" he croaked, words cracking. "Hurry… get out."

"All righty! Thanks man." Winnie chirruped, scooting out through the exit.

Harry patted TK's shoulder as he skid by. "Much appreciated dude."

Mike stared at the hippie in awe as he shuffled past, unable to think of anything to say.

The shuddering roof held until the last of them had escaped, and then, with sigh, it thundered down on their hero.

Mike stared back the way they had come as they trekked on. "Will he be okay?" he asked aloud.

Winnie brushed herself of. "TK was a valiant sacrifice for our cause. His brave actions will not be forgotten."

"Hey-Don't talk like that, it really creeps me out…"

"Shush. We have to hurry."

A dim light became visible ahead, and the 6 of them emerged blinking, in a long cement tunnel. Flickering flood lights swung overhead.

'We're getting close to the Guild," Luke cautioned. "Everyone, make sure to be very-'

Looking behind him as he spoke, he casually trod on a one tile slightly indented from the rest. Instantaneously, the floor beneath them swung away, leaving them temporarily hovering over a yawning abyss.

"Ah! I forgot to tell you-well I guess you know noooooooooow!" Luke howled in apology, his voice fading as he plunged into the darkness.

Mike flailed wildly, arms thrashing. Instinctively, his hand flung out and grabbed onto the one thing stationary.

He jerked to a stop, left swinging over the void. Mike looked up.

Harry, whose ankle he'd managed to snack was holding onto Winnie's feet with a death grip, who in turn had latched onto Emmanuel, who had snagged onto Hannah, who, in the nick of time, had managed to fling a rope to catch around one of the lamps. For several moments, they swung from the lamp, one extremely surprised human chain.

"Get… moving." Hannah grunted, holding onto the rope with red knuckles, as she began to swing them to the edge of the pit.

"Mike! You need to climb up us!" Winnie called from above. "It's the only way!"

Why, Mike wondered to himself, couldn't have ended up in some peaceful form of purgatory? Like, one where you just sat in a doctor's office waiting room for another hundred years. I could dig that. Instead, I'm dealing with these nut jobs. He glanced down at the smothering shadows, and quickly started moving up, reaching for whatever handholds he could find.

"Whoa," Harry chuckled as Mike moved past. "Sure are eager, aren't ya'?" he laughed, somehow managing to make jokes even when suspended over a seemingly endless drop.

"Aw shut up," Mike dismissed through gritted teeth.

He hesitated, looking up at Winnie with uncertainty. How… how was he supposed to climb over…

"Get moving, moron!" she hissed down at them. "We can't hold on like this all day!"

"But, but, where do I grab on to-"

"_It doesn't matter, just go_!"

Taking a quick gulp, he centered his legs around her knees, then as quick as he could reached to hoist himself up by her shoulders. Halfway through the pull-up, he found himself face-to-face with Battlefront's leader. She stared at him, defiantly ignoring the blush on her cheeks.

"Get moving, numbskull!"

"Oh, yes, sorry, sorry."

With a tremendous effort, he finally reached the top, and hoisted himself over the edge. He rolled over, gasping.

"All right, I'm coming up," he faintly heard Harry call from below.

"Ok, that's- _Hey, you can't grab on _there_, you moron_. THUNK."

"No! Ahhhhhhhh, you biiiiiii…." Harry cursed, his voice ominously trailing off into silence.

When the others had heaved themselves back onto solid ground, Mike looked around, and noticed only three other faces.

"Uh, where did Harry go?" he asked awkwardly.

Winnie turned away, her face hidden behind her hair. "Harry perished along the way. Come along, we can't forget his sacrifice."

Emmanuel snorted cynically from his position, slumped against one of the cement walls.

"Huh," he breezed. He appraising Mike with a critical eye and a knowing smirk. "Pretty impressive, surviving this long. I would have suspected that a new guy like you would be the first to go."

Emmanuel suddenly leaned in close to Mike, brows dancing. "But you can be sure… you'll be the next to go…"


	12. Chapter 12

Emmanuel's lifeless eyes rolled back into his head as he drifted, gently floating on the water's surface.

"Huh," said Mike reflectively from beside him, as they treaded water in an attempt to survive the next death-trap. "Who would have guessed the poor bastard couldn't swim. Bad luck, I suppose. But… he'll be all right?"

Overhead of them, the water continued to rise, only inches of air left in the tight room.

But then, Hannah burst to the surface, head poking out like an otter. "Come on, I found a way out!" she declared urgently, and then resubmerged.

Mike and Winnie followed her down through the dimly lit murk, through some form of underwater passage. Just when Mike thought his lungs would burst, they saw a dim light, and broke surface.

Mike and Winnie dogpaddled to the shore, looking around warily at the massive, underground cavern they had surfaced in.

"This… is the weirdest basement I've ever been in." Mike declared, as they shook themselves, Hannah waiting ahead impatiently. "Of course, I can't remember any others, but I'm pretty sure this is the weirdest."

"Come on, you two," Hannah insisted, her face still expressionless despite all of the exertion they had endured. She strode on ahead, not bothering to see if she was followed.

They trailed behind her, still knocking the water out of their ears.

"She's pretty intense…" Mike observed quietly, gazing at Hannah in awe. "I wouldn't want to get on her bad side."

Winnie nodded in agreement. "Hannah's been here almost as long as I have. She values personal capability over anything else: appearance, other people's opinion of her, whatever. She doesn't seem to trust anyone, and I've never seen a more brutal fighter. Myself excluded, of course. There is one thing we do share, though. "

Mike frowned at the figure striding ahead of them in wonderment. "What?"

Winnie shrugged, as if it wasn't an issue. "We both are totally committed to defeating God. To making him pay. That's all."

"Oh. I see, well then-"

There was a splash. Mike tensed, by now ready for anything. But when his scanning eyes noticed what was in the water beside them, he almost laughed in relief.

The lake had turned into a river. Several hundred feet ahead it could be seen breaking into violent rapids, before finally hurtling over some terrible waterfall. Mike could hear it from where he stood.

Rushing past them, kept afloat in a simple cardboard box was a teddy bear, silent as it hurtled towards its demise.

Mike chuckled. "Heh, that's a relief. No one would fall for a simple trick like that-"

"I'M COMING TEDDY!" Hannah cried. Her face tightened in ferocious determination as she leapt into the air. She plunged into the water and swam to the box with Olympic strokes. The water rushed past, jostling over the rapids with wicked speed.

An astonished Mike distantly saw Hannah reach the box, then, remove the toy with a dawning expression of disbelief, and fly over the waterfall.

"THIS, THIS IS SOOOOOOOO STUPIIIIIID," she called out in frustration, before her call was lost over the pounding roar of the water.

"And," Winnie added, her brow narrowing in annoyance, "she also has an incredible attachment to cute and fluffy animals, bears especially." Winnie sighed. "She loves them so much, she has difficulty telling toys apart from the real thing."

Mike swallowed. "That's… actually really adorable."

"Whatever. Come on, let's get going."

They proceeded to tromp out of the cavern, scaling a spiraling stone-hewn path. At the stair's pinnacle, they stumbled into another hallway. Mike knocked one of the wooden supports cautiously; it looked precisely like the initial tunnel they had traversed.

"Weird… It's like we've gone full circle. Winnie, just how big is this place?"

She brushed past him without an answer and set off down the passage, her face set in a frustrated grimace.

"Winnie? Hey, what's wrong?" Mike called, jogging to catch up with her.

She doggedly avoided his gaze, striding on with forced determination. "Nothing! Nothing's wrong. This is a mission, we have to complete it."

"But, are you sure? Is there-"

"Aww sweet mercy, man, don't you let things go?" she hissed, glaring at him, huffing. He was silent.

She huffed. "Well, a real leader would have done better than this, all right?"

He blinked at her.

"I mean… A real leader, a good leader, they would have kept everyone together… I only managed to keep ahold of _you." _

She glanced at him. "No offense."

He shook his head violently, running ahead to look back at her. "Hey, I don't know what you're talking about! You're the best military leader I've ever met! You hold these people together, and-" She frowned at him. "You've never seen any other military commander, moron. I still got a long ways to go, if I'm going to defeat the God of the universe." Her frown shrunk a little. "But hey, let's take a quick break. I want to dry off."

Mike slumped down next to her as they sat at the edge of the passage. "Look," he began, curious. "I don't remember what earth was like, so I feel like I'm missing something. Why are you all fighting God? I thought he was the good guy."

Winnie began to wring out her sleeve. "What, as opposed to the Devil? What, God's the one who fights the Devil, stops him from messing up the world?"

She slowed, her eyes steady as she stared at the far wall. "Best joke I've heard all day."

"What do you mean?"

Winnie leaned back against the dusty wall. She was silent for a moment, and then began to speak.

₪"When I was ten, my dad got a new job. He had been promoted. Suddenly, we could live comfortably. We bought a new house, and my family; my parents, me, and my three younger siblings moved to a nice place out in the country. We weren't really rich, but we were better off than most. I didn't really pay much attention to that.

"I'd just got to middle school, you see. There were so many people, and some tough teachers… I had my own locker. It was serious business. Suddenly I felt all grown up, I felt like I was capable of anything. My little siblings were a little bit annoying, but… I knew they looked up to me. I loved them so much.

"One day in the summer, my parents were away for the afternoon. They'd left me behind, told me to take care of everyone. I was overjoyed, my parents trusted me to protect the most precious things in the house, my siblings. I was responsible!

"But, we lived out far from everyone else, there were no immediate neighbors. And, it had been a hard summer for my country, lots of people losing their jobs.

"There was a robbery. Three men, they broke in through a window, and started running around the house, knocking things over, using words I knew I wasn't supposed to use.

" My brothers and sister were terrified; I could only hold them as we knelt in the living room, waiting for it to be over. The men were looking for our valuables, of course. But my dad, he kept everything in someplace hidden, and I didn't know where it was. The robbers couldn't find anything, and they became… angry."

Winnie's eyes scrunched tight. "And so, they did the only thing they could think of. They wrenched my brother and my sisters from me, and held them up against our living room wall.

"'Hey, little girl! You're the oldest, right?' one said. I, I could tell he was drunk, he leaned over me as he spoke, his breath smelt terrible. 'You must be in charge, huh?' he said. 'I bet your parents told you were all the money n' stuff is kept, huh? Where you'd keep what you need to, ah, to make nasty burglars go bye-bye, huh?'

"They all laughed. Then, the man spoke again.

"'We're _real _impatient, you see girl? So you bring us your parent's valuables, _right now. _Because,' and, the man tickled my youngest brother on the cheek. 'Because, every ten minutes that goes by where we don't get what we _want_… We'll have to take one of your family from you. One by one.'

Winnie shook. "I was frantic, the most frightened I've even been. I raced around the house, looking desperately for something I could give them. But I was only _ten_, how could I know what they wanted, what men like them would find valuable? I flew, from room to room, up and down the stairs, the men watching every step I made.

"At last, I came into my father's study, and saw the clock behind his desk. It had been nine minutes. Desperate, I picked up the only thing I could think off, my father's favorite vase. It, it was so _heavy_, something that heavy had to be valuable! I could barely lift it; it took all my strength to take it to the stairs.

"I started down, holding on to it with a death grip, I couldn't let it slip. But, but I couldn't see the stairs beneath me, and my foot missed the step… and I fell.

"I lay on the ground, covered in pottery shards. I remember looking at my hands, watching blood cover them from the cuts. And then, I blacked out.

"The police finally arrived, 30 minutes later. When my parents found me, I had to tell them the truth. I'd failed. They were all gone, and I was left, an only child. "

Mike's mouth hung open, his eyes red. He couldn't think of anything to say.

"It's just, it's just too much," Winnie whispered, hugging herself. "We didn't do anything, but we were killed by hatred. We were just kids…"

Her eyes snapped open. Mike blinked in alarm as she suddenly stared into him, irises burning.

"Mike, the older I got, the more I noticed the same thing all around me. Whole nations drowning in poverty, children left to die in the streets. Natural disasters struck often, with no rhyme or reason, tearing down homes, and ripping apart families. God's _kingdom_ is miserable, he doesn't care about us. Why else would he let this world be _such garbage_? Why is it so full of hatred, where… where…

"I can't accept it; I _can't _accept a life where we have to live with so much pain. And I can't, I can't ever forgive God for abandoning us to such hard, difficult lives. I will fight this _almighty _God, the Lord, until I am strong enough, until I can finally make him pay for the hateful world he threw us to."

A thud suddenly resounded, echoing from not far behind.

Winnie flew up, taking a shell-shocked Mike with her. "Angel's almost here!" she cried, taking off down the hall, dragging Mike along. "Hurry, we're almost there. I can't let Angel win."


	13. Chapter 13

They sprinted along the passage, as it merged with others, and gradually widened, until the tunnel would have been wide enough to accommodate a small plane. Finally, they reached what appeared to be a dead end, featureless except for a small hole in the floor, before a great, cement wall.

"Here," Winnie marked, jumping right into the pit to slide down the ladder, Mike following.

As Mike descended, he noticed the light change, from a claustrophobic lighting, to distant, epic illumination. At the bottom he stepped out onto a platform and looked around slowly. His jaw worked in awe.

They had been telling the truth. There was a factory, right here, far below the school.

He and Winnie had descended to the top of an incredibly huge cavern, one the size of the cafeteria several times over. Soaring to its rock-hewn ceiling was all manner and description of machines, clanking and roaring in the glittering red light cast from fiery, soaring oven. Conveyer belts clicked by, as apparatuses labored over them, the squeals of manufacturing ripping through the air. A comparatively tiny, skeleton crew of workers operated the machinery, rushing about from place to place like a tribe of very creative and sloppily dressed ants.

As the duo climbed to the bottom of the assemble floor, their presence quickly became noted. By the time they reached the bottom, a crowd of workers had assembled around them.

"Hey, it's Fred!" one cried, the mass of dirty workers swarming around her, laughing in relief. "You made it! You made it past all of the Anti-angel traps! You came for us! Amazing!"

"Now, now, give the girl some breathing room…" a low voice called out.

A figure shouldered his way to the front of the crowd. For a school supposedly composed only of young souls, this male seemed a bit too old to be in high school. He had a beard, for goodness sake.

"Ah, Freddy, glad to see you could make it," the young man grinned, as they shook each other's hands with the familiarity of old friends.

"Hey, Asher. Is it getting lonely down here for you yet?"

Asher laughed. "Not yet, man. You know me; I'd much prefer a good, solid set of tools in my hands then to have to deal with everything above ground. I'm glad-"

His statement was cut off, as a sudden boom echoed through the chamber. They all looked up. Dust drifted down from the ceiling.

"That was our last anti-angel trap," a young Guild member noted nervously. "Angel, she's right above us!"

Fred's eyes narrowed. "She can't be allowed to reach the Guild. It would a fatal breach in our intelligence, she'd learn too much."

Asher stepped up beside her, arms crossed, as the workers around him stood silent, gaze fixed upward in anxious suspense. "So, what do we do?" he asked.

Fred whirled around to face her constituents. "We have to blow it all up. We have to blow up the Guild."

"What?" came the cry of disbelief? "We've worked here for years!"

"It doesn't matter! The whole purpose of this place, of the entire Battlefront, is to defeat Angel, to fight back. That becomes pointless if Angel reaches this place."

Asher suddenly began to laugh, his deep, throaty chuckles sounding as his deep-set eyes glittered. "Very well. It seems we have no choice. We shall retreat, and rebuild in the sight of the original Guild, the one from the early days. Men!"

Asher turned to his crew. "Don't stand there lollygagging! Remember, we created this place out of our skill, and our determination. The Guild is not what you see around you, but the memories and skills you possess, and your ability to create. Now, on your pride as technicians, we shall destroy this facility, and create one even stronger!"

The dirt-stained figures gave a rousing cheer, and dispersed, running of with radical yells.

As Mike watched them go and begin to affix ominous red packages to the walls around them, he felt an absence. Looking around, he was startled to find Winnie suddenly missing.

She was halfway back up the ladder before he caught up with her.

"Where are you going!" he yelled over the rumble of the machinery. "Angel's up-"

"I know! Someone needs to stall for time, if we're going to pull this off."

She hoisted herself out of the hole, and found herself once more in the large, plane-sized tunnel. It was enveloped in dust. She heard a step, and turned around, startled.

Mike brushed himself off. "Well, you're not doing it alone. I'll do what I can."

"…Humph."

The dust began to settle, its cause soon evident. A hammer re-ascended into the ceiling, leaving behind the massive crater it had left when it had fallen. And, rising to her feet with endurance of a force of nature, Angel turned to look at them, pale face glistening in the gloom.

"Students should not be down here," she said softly, her words barely heard. "It's dangerous. You must leave."

Winnie hissed in response, and violently chucked a spinning smoke bomb right at her. Clouds of gas wafting around her opponent, Winnie flung out her pistol, and fired.

Angel went down heavily onto one knee, her other leg beginning to bleed profusely. But as they watched, she straightened. The bullet popped right out of her appendage, the bleeding staunched.

"_Guardskill: Distortion_"

Winnie cursed, and before the smoke could clear, she was sprinting at her foe, single knife held in her clenched fist.

In the cavern beneath where the fight was taking place, the Guild members gasped with exertion, as their workplace filled with explosives, the incendiary parcels attached to every smoke stack, stairwell, and assembly line. In the center of the cavern, a number of the more ambitious Guild members labored, dirt phasing into pipes, electrics, and gears. Soon, they had assembled a hulking mechanic behemoth.

Seconds before she reached Angel, her strike inches from the shorter girl's neck, Angel spun away, moving with impossible speed. "_Guardskill: Hand Sonic." _Two twin blades materialized on both of her wrists, ones and zeroes twirling as the grey steel materialized. Angel crouched, and then flew forward, points moving with deadly intent.

Mike closed his eyes in horror, but then reopened them in confusion.

Winnie had somehow dodged the blow. As he watched in awe, she ducked around Angel, seeking to strike on the side. Angel parried, her other arm coming around to hit below. But Winnie kicked the attack away, using the momentum to dart back, and then come again with the side.

It was incredible. The two flew back and forth, sparks flying from the confluence of the blades. Winnies speed, her ability was incredible. To Mike, it looked like her skill was on the same plane as Angel's, perhaps the only member of the Battlefront who could actually stand this close to the being and survive.

Angel momentarily stepped back, her face dripping in sweat. She examined Winnie with inscrutable eyes.

"_Guardskill: Delay-" _

Even as she spoke, Winnie attacked again, crying out as she sprung forward. With a strike, she cut _right through_ Angel, stumbling as her blow flew.

As Winnie stumbled, there was a shimmer. The image of Angel, cut in two, was dispelled, and the shards of light reformed to where Angel stood, inches behind Winnie, the sight of her movement delayed by seconds.

Winnie's eyes widened, and she barely managed to drop to the ground to avoid the twin blades. She rolled to the left, and sprung up again against a rock to fly at Angel once more.

She soared right through Angel, and though she turned, was barely able to parry the real Angel's strike from slightly to the side of the after-image

With a clang, Winnie's weapon flew out of her hand.

Angel broke into the finisher. She spun and twirled, each blade slashing around her in grim pirouettes, each strike getting within inches of Winnie, who stumbled back frantically. Winnie stepped back, her toe catching on a rock. She teetered, as the silver blades whirled to their target-

Mike's shoulder caught Angel squarely in the chest, sending her surprisingly light form sprawling away.

What's up, Mike thought as he helped Winnie to her feet. I did something _extremely _hazardous even though I'm not sure I want to join the Battlefront. I just, I couldn't let her get hurt.

"Fred!" A voice called from behind them. "_Get out of the way!_"

They turned around, and stumbled back in surprise.


	14. Chapter 14

The smooth cement wall behind the path down to the Guild was rapidly sliding away. In its place, they could here and see what appeared to be an enormous, industrial sized elevator. And coming up the elevator, was a crowd of Guild members hanging proudly off of their newest creation, a gigantic, menacing cannon.

"You guys rock!" Winnie called as she and Mike fled to a small passage on the side of the chamber.

"Hey, we're not even sure how to build a cannon," one of the Guild members called out jovially. "But it doesn't matter! This thing's totally awesome!"

There was a lull. Angel was back on her feet, and she gazed blankly ahead at the oncoming contraption, its barrel grinning down at her.

The Guild member in charge took a deep breath, his messy blonde hair ruffling. "All right, ready… FIRE!"

There was a click. Then, a central chamber of the cannon ignited… quickly followed by the rest of the cannon. With a clashing boom, the contraption blew itself apart into a thousand pieces of smoldering iron, sending the Guild members zipping in all directions, groaning as they hit the ground.

Winnie took the opportunity to energetically kick the one nearest her. "Don't create things you don't understand, if they blow up, moron!" she cried.

"Sorry…"

Asher poked his shaggy head out of the tunnel, as he and the last of the Guild scurried out.

"Here," he called, tossing a crate of objects to his moaning associates. "Get up, take these! We have to cover our retreat!"

With the resilience Mike had come to expect of people of this world, the workers struggled to their feet, and hastily chucked the metallic objects at Angel's oncoming form. With snaps and flashes, the small bombs imploded, blasting her small form as she persevered onward, slowing her progress.

"Come on!" Asher called, ushering the last of the Guild members into a small side passage. He looked at Winnie, indecision briefly flickering across his worn face as he procured as small switch from his coat. "You really think we should do this?"

She nodded. "I'm sure."

"Very well." With a deliberate motion, he flicked open the case around the switch, and pressed down the button with a burnt thumb.

Below them, hundreds of cases of Battlefront-made explosives were set off.

Angel, meters away from the fleeing Guild members, paused. She looked down at her feet. As she watched, spindling cracks appeared all over the floor, opening up like a snake's maw. As they watched, the floor of the central passage disintegrated.

Angel plummeted, expressionless, into a burning cavern full of exploding incendiaries, crashing machinery, and boiling air, and disappeared into a pit of fire.

Asher surveyed the room critically. He kicked one of the piles of dirt lying around skeptically.

"We haven't been in this dump in years," he smiled. "Heh, those were good times though."

"Everybody awake again by now?" Winnie called, speaking into a walky-talky set. "We've moved to the old Guild, I want everyone to head down here now, so we can get going!"

Elly slid off the boulder, holding his now-intact head miserably. So much rolling….

Richie got to his feet. As he did so, his uniform slid off, torn into shreds. He looked down at the fragments in surprise.

Harry helped Luke to his feet, as they looked around at the dark pit walls around them. "Whew! Guess it all turned out all right!" Luke whistled, relieved.

"True… but… how the hell are we going to get back up?"

As the ceiling clicked its way back up into position, TK blinked, and sat up. "Hells bells…" he muttered, glancing upwards.

Emmanuel suddenly coughed, breath flooding back into his body. He whirled around the draining chamber, water flying in a mist. His movements slowed as realization hit. "Aww, nuts…'

Hannah lay still, her face flushed pink. Her eyes were shut tight in chagrin, the teddy held tight in her arms.

Winnie smiled back at Asher. "You guys can rebuild, right?"

"Of course. We have the materials, and the memories. All we need to do is get to work." The tall youth turned to appraise the assembled Guild members. "All right, all! Show me your ability, let's rebuild even better than before!"

The sweaty rebels howled a throaty cheer, and moved out, experienced hands sifting the dirt into structure, bringing order from chaos.

And through it all, strode Winnie, barking a command there, offering encouragement here, and talking to an old friend over there. Mike noticed she didn't actually tell the workers how to do their tasks, instead trusting them to know how to do their jobs. Instead, she simply somehow managed, through some unknown instinct, to weave all of the workers in, until everyone felt included, could feel and understand their efforts going to something bigger.

They all know her so well, Mike realized. And whenever she's around, they manage to create with more _confidence_. Is it because they just really want to help the Battlefront, or they just really trust Fred?

He smiled to himself, leaning against a wall at the periphery of the activity. I don't know what she's going on about, he thought. She's an amazing leader; she brings all of them together. She's incredible.

**A/N. End of Mission Two. I'm starting to get really into this. There's just something exciting about taking something you love, and having it flow in a new medium. Thanks so much to everyone of you that's read this far. In the next chapter I'm planning on adding in a new scene between Mike and Angel that wasn't in the original, to give their relationship some early development. Does anyone have any ideas on what would be fun to see?**


	15. Chapter 15

The last chord faded away. Hayley relaxed, and lowered the guitar. She looked around, the Battlefront members were all siting still with thoughtful expressions. "What do you think?"

"It's-" Mike started.

"It isn't going to work," Winnie broke in. She shook her head dismissively as she propped her feet up on the principle's desk. "Girl's Dead Monster is supposed to serve as a distraction, remember? How are you going to distract anyone when you're playing some sappy love ballad?"

Hayley hesitated, regarding her friend. Then she nodded. "Ok, it's fine. I'll trash that one."

A sigh went up around the room.

Winnie promptly ignored it, and turned to indicate the projector screen behind her. "All right, moving on. The new guild is still being constructed, so we are currently running on a slight weapons deficit. In response, our next mission will be a covert one, we shall infiltrate Angel's domain!"

The Battlefront members began to mutter, eyes brows rising.

"But… the last time we tried that, it was terrible!" Luke recalled with horror. "I mean, I got torn into 7 different-"

"Silence," Fred hushed with authority. "I know how our last venture ended. But, this time, things will be different. We have… _this guy_!"

Winnie leapt up from her chair, pulling up by the scruff of the neck a scrawny boy, who had apparently been stuffed under the desk for dramatic purposes.

It worked. "What the heck, how long was he back there!" Harry cried.

"Not cool Winnie, not cool," Emmanuel moaned, sitting back down.

Elliot stared at the newcomer curiously. "He has glasses…" he noted, pushing up his own spectacles.

"This is so stupid…" Hannah grumbled.

"Meet Leonard, " Winnie pronounced, as the boy walked around the desk, fixing stray hairs back into his perfect bowl-cut, reaffixing his thick framed round glasses to his face, the glare from the projector utterly hiding his eyes behind the glass. "I picked him up from the diversion division; he's a genius with computers."

"What, and this joker's going to help us get in to Angel's domain?" Emmanuel hissed skeptically.

"Ha!" Jake cried, eyes gleaming with dangerous glee. He jumped, halberd flashing, and soon stood poised, weapon inches from the newcomer's still figure. "Is that so, pipsqueak? Well then, let's see what you're made of!"

"You don't have friends, do you?" Mike said quietly.

Jake didn't hear him in his bloodlust "There can't be anything someone like you could do-"

Leonard began to speak, the incredible syllables flying from his lips like winged chariots, sophisticated gods of war.

"3.14159265358979323846264338…"

Jake stumbled back, mouth agape, face twitching as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing.

"…32795028841971693993751058209…"

They could almost see steam pouring out of Jake's frazzled brain as he dropped his weapon, and brought his hands to his stricken face as he fell to his knees. Leonard only moved closer, continuing to speak all the while. "…749445923078164062…"

"Sweet Malt Balls!" Richie cried in astonishment. "Is all that Pi?"

"H-hey, give him a break!" Harry entreated, moving towards the dueling pair with outstretched hands. "Give him some mercy, he's only a moron-"

"Exactly," Fred snapped, folding her hands. "The major problem we face is, we're all morons."

"That isn't really something a leader should tell her followers-"Mike started to argue.

"So," Fred continued," we need someone who's actually intelligent, if we're going to be successful. In our last attempt, our lack of intelligence was made _extremely _apparent. And so, the hacker, codename: Leonard, will be joining us.

"But, isn't that his real name?"

"Yes but," Leonard spoke suddenly, thin voice quavering. "I actually go by the name, Christ!"

They stared at him for a moment. "Hey, do you think we could ask Asher and the others to make a trampoline?" Harry asked wistfully. "I've always wanted a trampoline."

"Idiot, how's that going to defeat Angel," Emmanuel snorted. "Make your own trampoline."

Mike scratched his head thoughtfully. Angel's domain? What on earth could that be like? A vivid image appeared in his mind's eye again, but instead of seeing him free-falling out of an airplane, he was staring in awe up some grandiose castle, a soaring fortress positioned on the peak of a summit, a heavily fortified, beautifully made structure looming down at all below.

Mike frowned. "But… why do we need a hacker to infiltrate Angel's Domain?"

"Because Angel's Domain is run by a computer," Harry explained. "We don't know why, but that's how it seems to work."

What… a computer? The image in Mike's imagination changed from a medieval castle to a massive mechanical hulk, humming and beeping with unknown functions.

"The operation will commence tomorrow night," Winnie continued, "So make sure to prepare yourselves. Hayley, I'll need Girls Dead monster to schedule a concert that night, we're going to need a massive distraction if we're going to manage to get in undetected."

Hayley leaned back on the coffee table. "Understood."

Mike walked along the river steadily. He'd spent the remainder of the morning practicing his shooting; he really thought he was getting the hang of it. Well, getting the hang of it as long as his target was a motionless bush, only 20 meters away across the river.

He wandered back up the spiral staircase to the school, stepping up the firm metal steps as he hefted his weapon thoughtfully. He still couldn't really remember heads or tails of what he'd been like while he was still alive. But… well, the memories he was making now, he thought they'd do a good job.

"Mike!" a voice called out. He turned around to see a group of the guys, Harry, TK, Emmanuel, and Jake, cavorting towards him. An arm was thrown around his shoulder, and before he could protest, he was being drug along with them.

"Where are we going?" he called as they made their way further into the school, passing classroom after classroom full of lecturing teachers and bored students.

"Hush. We've got important things to attend to," Harry replied sunnily.

"Live and let die," agreed TK, moonwalking alongside them through the pools of sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Mike looked around curiously as the bell rang, and the chattering NPC's spilled out all around them.

Emm grunted in annoyance, and tried to create a path through the throng by waving his arms dramatically. But it'd take more than a rhino's charge to deter students desperate to leave their classes, and they were quickly swamped in the crowd.

"Crazy, crazy on you!" TK exclaimed, throwing his hands up as he spun in place, most people moving around him tactically.

There was a giggle. Turning, , they saw a pretty girl dressed in the uniform of the normal students chuckling at TK's antics. Noticing his audience, TK smiled, and broke into an elaborate routine, dropping to spin around on his hands, feet spinning.

"What's up with him?" a guy asked, putting his arm around the girl as he stepped up to join her in watching the spectacle. "I didn't know this school had a dance team."

"TK just really likes to dance," Mike explained, stepping towards the couple so he could be heard in the cacophony of those who had been forced to go over an hour without speaking. "And sing… and jump, and spin, and… I don't know, I just think he has a lot of energy."

The young girl laughed again, tapping her foot in beat with the rumbles that ripped through TK's spinning body. "He certainly is talented. "

Her boyfriend's brow furrowed. "Hey, I can dance to, you know. I-"

"Oh come on Henry, you can do the robot, that doesn't count."

As the crowd finally dispersed around them, she smiled at his stricken expression. "Kidding, dear. You have a very romantic robot."

Mike grinned at them, feeling the familiar comfort of normal topics of conversation sweep over him. "Does this school have any school dances?"

The short-haired guy nodded. "Sure, I think there's one soon. You guys should all come and dance, it'll"

"FOOL!" Jake howled, jumping forward, swirling his halberd with deadly intent. "HOW DARE YOU IMPLLY I'D DO SOMETHING AS WIMPY AS DANCING, HUH?" He thrusted forward with the weapon, its glimmering tip stopping inches away from the guy's chest.

Mike's mouth fell open in shock, he watched as Harry and Emmanuel struggled diligently to hold their "friend' back, as Jake spouted increasingly creative profanities at being restrained.

Mike turned back to the couple. "Look, I can explain…"

He trailed off. Something was definitely… off, about their expressions. They looked back at Jake, with his quivering blade, not with shock or fear, but a form of dazed confusion. As Nick watched, it solidified into annoyance.

"Sheesh, no need to point like that," the guy huffed as the two headed off. "Some people just don't know manners."

Mike watched them go, twisted. His group once more set off, down a different hall, one lined with a variety of colorful painting of animals from the art department.

"What happened," he asked, looking down. "They acted like they hadn't been seconds from death."

Emmanuel nodded. "It's because their NPC's, idiot. Normal students. Do people point battleaxes at kids in normal school?"

"No… At least, I don't think so."

"Of course not. It just doesn't compute. Instead, they see something that would normally exist. It's like, I don't really care to think it through, but I guess you could say that they are human, but not all of one. "Emm scratched his head. "They probably just thought Jake had made some offensive gesture. Whatever, it doesn't really matter- What the, who the hell is this?"

They had wandered to the gym. In the clearing outside the entrance doors, a small girl was hard at work, died-pink hair swishing as she stepped from one bulletin board, leaving behind a trail of identical posters, glaring with their flamboyant colors.

Mike read one carefully. "Girls Dead Monster, gymnasium A, 10:00 Tuesday. Be there for a night of debauchery, skullduggery, and underhanded rocking out."

With a zing, the pink-haired girl appeared before them, eyeing them perkily as she rocked on her heels. "Yup! We're going to have a concert tomorrow night! It's amazing, because concerts aren't allowed at this school, unless it's a designated event. But, GirlDeMo directly advertising it! The teachers can't let them get away with this! Hi! I'm Julie. Can I help you?"


	16. Chapter 16

"It's just a flunky for the diversion squad," Harry dismissed, reaching down to grab her head and lightly move her out of their path. "Let's get going-"

With a snap, Harry's hand was flung away, and Julie's face, which moments before had been smiling cheerily, went bone beet red as she proceeded to attempt to lay into Harry.

"Hey! _A flunky_! I'll have you know that I'm, I'm a, I'm a very respected member of the team!" she tried to argue, while Harry casually held her back by planting his palm on her forehead. "Everyone thinks I do a great job! Even Hayley and the other members of Girls dead monster… ah…"

Like a switch had been thrown, she stopped struggling and stood there, eyes twinkling. "GirlDeMo… oohh, they're _so amazing._ I can't believe I get to work with them, I mean, they don't exactly know I exist yet, but they're just so cool! I know everything about them!"

"Oh no…" Harry moaned, sidling away from her as if she was diseased. "A _fan girl…_"

Mike's brow furrowed. "Girl's dead monster? GirlDeMo? Wait, isn't that the band-"

"No, _what are you doing, don't provoke_-"

"-that Hayley leads, the one that leads the diversions?" he asked

Emm cursed. "_No! _Now we'll never get her to-"

Julie stood bold upright, her eyes filling up with joy. "Hayley?" she uttered in response, in a tone of extreme reverence. "Like, oh my gosh, Hayley is Girl Demo's lead singer, _and _the rhythm guitarist. She writes all the songs, and all the lyrics, and she's a beautiful singer, and, and she's totally my hero."

"Later…" Harry muttered, shuffling off with determination. The others followed.

Mike turned to follow, but found his way obstructed. Julie had latched onto his coat, as she continued on her rant of adoration.

"And Jess, oo, while Hayley has the voice of an angel, Jess plays a wicked bass! I'd say she definitely has _devilish_ skill, a solid wall of screaming sound, and then, and then… ooh, I know all their songs! Crow song definitely is my favorite, that's the one they played for operation tornado last week, but, but Alchemy, ooh, Alchemy is the one that really sets me alive! It's so beautiful! Like a thousand shards of the world fused into one glowing picture of-"

"Hey, hey, knock it off," Mike said, trying to disengage the girl from his coat. "Sheesh…" "But I'm not finished yet! I haven't gotten to-"

"Hey, weren't you doing a job? Shouldn't you be working to help this band, if they're so precious to you?"

He was released immediately.

"Oh, you're right, thank you," she rushed, eyes glowing.

He rubbed his neck. "No problem. Just… be careful."

"I will! I have to go set up the sound system! See ya later, alligator!" And without a second word, she flounced off.

Mike stood in the clearing, looking around. He hadn't seen where the guys had trekked off to, and he'd never been to this part of the school before, he was utterly lost. Maybe-"

He paused. He could hear something. Music, the thump of the bass, the rattle of the drum, and an echo of words, floating down from a staircase tucked in to his left. With hesitant steps, he ascended the stair.

With soft, small hands, Angel reached up, and peeled the notice off the wall. Her hazel eyes flicked as she read it.

"Aw, come on Prez, let it go!" a voice, Kyle of the student council, complained from beside her. "We love GirlDeMo, everybody does! Can't you just ignore it?"

"But it is the rules. I cannot bend the rules, simply because it is desired," she replied simply, still gazing at the gaudy notice.

Another student politician giggled, the obnoxious noise harsh in the bustling lobby, as students filed out of the gym. Angel turned to look at the girl.

The girl, Tiffany, she believed her name was, had flipped out her mirror, and was examining the reflection with dissatisfaction. "Eww… it's a _rock _band, right? Who really cares?"

There was immediately a cry, as the other student council members voiced their disagreement. "I love listening to them," Kyle spoke up again. "It makes school exiting. Come on, Prez, don't take this from us."

Angel finally spoke, so soft that none could hear. "Is that it? Am I really the villain?"

"Please, it wouldn't distract us from-" he broke off. He looked around, dazed. "What the… where'd she go? She vanished!"


	17. Chapter 17

"_I guess I got smacked around, thumped on the head__  
__I'll be fine, the hospital said__  
__Do I need medicine to heel this fragile thread?__" _

The music continued to blast as Mike made his way to the center of the abandoned classroom, and tentively took a seat near the back.

At the front, the band fought on. Hayley howled out the chorus as her fingers pumped her guitar's strings, her figure rocking in time with her friends. In the middle of their art, they seemed oblivious to Mike's presence.

He continued to sit, the sound from the amps pounding in his chest, feeling as if he could just stay and listen for a lifetime.

The tempo kicked up, and they broke into a rock and roll instrumental, notes flying past as they-'

There was a sprung, and Jess slowed to a stop, looking down at the frayed bass chord with frustration. "Sorry guys. I'll restring it."

"It's cool," Hayley agreed. "Let's take a five minute break, all right guys?"

Hayley strode towards him, Mike stood up with a start. "I'm sorry, I don't know if you wanted a private rehearsal or what, I just got lost-"

She stopped in front of him, picking up a massive bottle of water from a box of them on a desk. 'It's fine. We're used to people-"

"Hey, Hayley? I just wanted you to know that, I really liked the song you played this morning. I thought it was beautiful."

She put the bottle down from her lips, her cool manner slipping for a moment. "Uh, really? Oh, well that's…"

She glanced around. "Hey, want to go for a walk? There's a great view of the soccer fields from the windows out in the hall."

"Oh, uh, sure."

They made their way out. Mike noticed Hayley didn't really walk, she sort off flowed, even her step hinting of some form of rhythm, only a beat away. Funny, a leader of a band made to distract an Angel, and she was the closest to a real rock star he thought he'd ever met.

"So, you liked the ballad? It's called My Song, by the way. Creative, I know," she spoke, her tone once more completely balanced.

He nodded earnestly.

"But… you've totally lost your memory, right? So…"

He coughed awkwardly. "Oh, yeah. I have. I guess that means I'm not exactly the ideal music reviewer-"

"Your lucky," she interrupted quietly, turning to gaze out at the fields below them. "Most of us would love, absolutely love not to have our memories."

He hesitated. "Oh, yeah. So, I heard that all of you, everyone on the Battlefront, had really bad memories of back when they were alive. I talked to Winnie about it, heard hers…"

Hayley sipped her water. "Winnie's, huh? Yikes. Hers are pretty bad. Mine aren't anywhere near as bad."

Mike leaned down on the windowsill beside her. "Not as bad?"

"It's simple, really. I just…. I couldn't play my beloved music."

₪"My parents fought. Every night, they would attack each other, filthy drunk. They'd yell, and they'd scream, howl about the rent, how we had no money, how they hated each other. Most nights, I couldn't sleep. Most days, I wished I was asleep. I felt alone, totally alone.

"One day, my life was touched. It was raining on my way home from school, so I wandered into a music store to get out of the dark downpour. Your probably don't remember music stores, they're on their way out, along with Blockbuster… Wait, never mind, forget about it. Anyway, I found this band, Sad Machine, the album was Requiem for Innocence. I started listening, and in that store, I listened to the whole thing, and then started on it again until they asked me leave.

"The singer, I found out later, was from a bad home environment. Just like me. I could tell from his music, his words, they reached out to _me_, he was singing for _me_. I could feel him crying out to me in the songs, as he railed against cruelty, against pain, as he fought for me. Those who went about their perfect lives, saying everything was right, they were wrong. And me, who knew what this world was like, I wasn't alone."

"He, he _saved _me."

"That day, I found and old, musty acoustic guitar, that someone had thrown out. It just lay on the curb, calling to me.

"So, I fixed it up, checked out some books, and started my music. It was my salvation. No matter what was happening at home, I could disappear, hide from it in my music. I would perform on the street, just singing and strumming that guitar. I sucked at first, but I got better, because I loved it so much.

"I had decent grades, and could have made it into a good college. But I knew that wasn't what I wanted, you know? So, I took out a bunch of odd jobs. I planned on moving out as soon as I graduated high school. I could work while I auditioned and put my music out there, until I could live of what I loved. I wasn't sure yet what my dream was, but I knew it had to do with my music.

"It was a few weeks before graduation. I was working at a restaurant, cleaning kitchens." Hayley's voice chipped. Her shoulders began to shake. "I, I got this headache, a really bad one, like something was blowing up. I felt really nervous, because I had a gig that night, and didn't want to miss it, so I tried to ignore it, but, but, It only got worse, and then… I blacked out."

He saw her fists clench, as, her eyes still closed, her breath grew ragged, her chest rising heavily with each inhalation. "I woke up in a hospital. I couldn't speak, I couldn't say anything. But I could hear."

"A severe head trauma had caused a cerebral stroke, inducing ephasia. " She looked at him, eyes haunted. "The night before, I had been caught in one of my parents' fights. A bottle of beer had caught me in the temple."

"I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. My brain bled out, and so… my life ended."

"Hey, Hayley?" a voice called. Jess stuck her head out the door to the classroom. "You ready to start again?"

Hayley sprung up. "So, in a way, coming here was a blessing. I got a second chance, a chance to sing, to play, to find out what my dream is. And, of course… any chance I get to strike back at the _God _who would give someone a life like that, give them hope and a love, and then take it away… I'll take that opportunity."

She grinned back at him, but this time, Mike could start to see beyond the shield. "See ya, man. You'll be busy during our concert, I know. But… come some other time, all right?"

He nodded, gazing after her.


	18. Chapter 18

Mike strode through the gardens, feet sending gravel spraying as he went. He yawned, stretching his tired arms as he went. Man, I slept like a rock last night, he realized, scratching the stubble that had cropped up on his chin. Even with everything going on, I still love sleeping.

He brushed some errant sunflowers out of the path, their seeds crinkling as they swayed. The fragrance hit him, and he slowed. A breeze whipped past him.

He looked over, the outline of the gym could faintly be seen, the massive room sticking slightly out of the roof of the classroom complex it was included in. Hayley and the others would probably be finishing the last of the preparations.

Hayley… he started off again, subdued. Hmm, she said that her life hadn't really been bad compared to Winnie's, and at least it hadn't been as gruesome. But, Mike thought, it was just as cruel, just as unfair.

People here… aren't fighting because they're afraid of being reincarnated, he pondered to himself. No one here is afraid of becoming a barnacle. They're all fighting, because they want to strike back at God, to find some justice in the hateful lives they were given. He rubbed his temples, very confused.

Mike squinted up at the morning sun, its blinding glow filling the brilliant blue sky.

God… he thought cautiously, shuffling his foot. I don't have the history that my friends do. I don't know what to make of all this. But, are you out there? Do you listen? And, well…. He swallowed. Please, why do let all this happen, if you have all your power, if you could stop it?

A swallow chirruped a ways off, and the bed of dew-dusted daises beside him swayed in the wind. There was no other sound.

Mike frowned, and quickly strode off again, kicking a stone. Well, that was ridiculous, he harangued himself. A waste of time, and now my toe hurts-"

"You don't frighten me!" a voice rang out, from just a ways down the garden path. Mike, recognizing it quickly, started, and ran towards it.

He stumbled across the vegetable section. Richie the fifth stood off the path, among a rich plot of glowing red tomatoes.

Feet away from him, eying the hefty fellow, Angel stood.

"I have a right to healthy, organic eating!" Richie defended dramatically, gesturing profusely with his arms full of produce.

Angel took a step closer. "The gardens are not meant for student consumption. You are trampling on the vines."

Richie eyed Angel, and bravely took a massive bite of tomato.

Mike blinked, and when he opened his eyes, Angel had disappeared.

But Richie the fifth was ready. As Angel flew forward, he dove to the side, exhibiting incredible agility for someone of his girth. He spun, and came at Angel; body arrayed in a curious way that Mike supposed must be the judo that he was called a master of.

"_Guardskill: Delay_"

Richie the fifth closed around Angel like a vise, body swinging expertly to pin her.

But something fell through, and Richie crumbled to the ground, grasping at air. As Mike watched, Angel became visible, jumping up in the air right above the fighter's neck. The blade at her wrist glistened, as she swung.

An object flew, and bounced across the path to Mike's feet. Gagging, he backed away from Richie's severed head.

What about an afterlife that's just an empty plain, he thought, his eyes glazed. Nothing to do but just sit and watch the grass grow. That would be nice. I could really get into that.

Angel stepped over her fallen foe, and started towards him.

She tilted her head, the sun glinting off her ice-white skin. "What are you doing out here? It is time for period 2. You should be in class."

Oh snap-oh snap-oh snap, Mike panicked. His mind tried to race, but only managed to trip over its laces.

"Oh, uh, I, I was just, I mean, it looked like a nice day for a walk, and I love gardens…"

Angel stopped. Though she continued to stare at him, something in her gaze shifted. "You like gardens?" she asked quietly, blood dripping from her blade.

Mike backed away, feeling an impenetrable wall of rosebushes loom up behind him. "Well yeah, but… but what are you doing out here? Why aren't _you_ in class?"

"I am the Student Body President," she replied steadily. "It is my job to maintain discipline. And, we haven't had rain for several days now. I had to water the begonias." For the first time, he noticed a small pink water can held in her hand. He hadn't noticed it, due to the object sprouting from her other hand.

Then he saw her jaw set. "This is not the time for going on a walk. You are supposed to be in class."

There's no other way out of this, he realized. I'm going to have to try and fight.

"All right, listen!" he called out, making a game attempt at bravado. "I don't have to listen to you! You can't dictate my actions! I have liberty!" He brought up his pistol with shaking hands, and pointed it unsteadily at the girl before him. "I'm not afraid of you," he promised, and he thought it was the most convincing lie he'd told all day.

But Angel didn't show the slightest inch of fear at being under the gun. "You shouldn't be out of class," she repeated, walking closer to him.

All right, now!

"_Guardskill:Delay_" he heard her utter, as he pulled the trigger.

As his hands flew back, stung from the kick, he saw the image of Angel he'd shot at shimmer, and then disperse as the bullet through full it, slowing everything down around it. But as the first faded, the second Angel suddenly appeared beside it, and plucked the slowed bullet out of the air as one might pluck a butterfly.

She stared at it, and cupped it in her hands. "_Guardskill: Return" _she muttered to it.

I can't give her time for this, he thought, and fired again.

In the moments that followed, he saw several things. As he fired, a vibrant green glow spread from Angel's cupped hands, obscuring the bullet within. The shot he had fired flew towards her, and he saw it strike her face-

And break apart against her forehead, as if it were no more than damp soil. As he watched, she emptied her palms, and a stream of dirt fell from them. Then, she started towards him.

Fevered, he shot at Angel again, and again, trying to stop her advance. But each bullet dissolved, with each successive shot disintegrating even faster. Finally, he felt the gun in his hands suddenly grow unbearably hot.

With a cry, he dropped it, and watched the weapon return to the dirt from whence it had been formed.

Mike tried to run backwards, as his vision filled up with avenging Angel in front of him. Well, this sucks, were his final thoughts, as his foot caught a root. He tumbled to the ground; a blade flew to his throat.


	19. Chapter 19

Jess scanned the room beyond them. The gym was packed full, chattering fans filled the floor in every direction, laughing with their friends, whistling, gazing forward in anticipation.

"There's no sign of the teachers or Angel yet," she called out brusquely, turning to her band members.

Irie, the drummer, looked around, nervous. "What if she does come? What if Angel-"

"Easy, babe, it'll be all right," Hayley comforted, checking her guitar's strings. "Remember, we want her to come. If she's here, then she's out of the way of the others. We have a duty."

Hayley turned, and carefully drew an instrument to her chest. It was an acoustic guitar, with faded wood, worn frets, and well-fingered strings. She set it up by the corner of the stage, smiling at it with nostalgia. In this world, you could only create what you knew how to make. She knew the contours and details of this guitar, her first guitar, better then she knew many people.

"All right, old friend," she murmured softly, stepping back. "Wish me luck."

A motion caught her eye. At the front of the mesh of people, she could distinguish one individual, largely by the way the individual was nearly keeling over with excitement. She recognized the uniform; it was one of the Battlefront.

Hayley smiled. "Hey," she called, padding over to the younger girl. "What's up?"

The fan turned dark red, and swayed on her feet. "…Up?... Addressing me…" She blinked. "Oh, sorry, Hi! Uh, I'm Julie, from the distraction-team. Though, well, all they really trust me with is setting up."

"You kidding? Techies have the most important job. Us performers have everything handed to us."

Julie seemed to be having difficulties comprehending what she was hearing. "R-really… thanks… Um, Miss Hayley?"

"Hmm?"

"I just wanted you to know how much you and Girl's Dead Monster's music means to me. Listening to you all perform, standing up to Angel like that… and your music itself. It really inspires me. I, I…" Julie's mouth moved for a few moments more, but she could not longer manage words.

Hayley drug a hand through her hair. "Whoa, thanks Julie. We put a lot of work into our songs. It's good to know someone's listening."

They crept along a moonlit path, their shadows slipping along beside like animated assassins.

Winnie's pale hand flew up. The Battlefront slammed into each other, with all the grace of ice-skating elephants.

Winnie cringed, not looking behind her. "_There's something over there_," she hissed, indicating a bush.

They watched, eyes wide. The bush rustled, shook. Then, two figures appeared out of the darkness, their features becoming illuminated under the lamp light.

The Battlefront sighed with relief as they greeted the newcomers.

"Richie! Mike! Where in the hell did you go?" Winnie barked. "We thought we'd have to do this without you."

Richie the fifth and Mike exchanged painful glances. Mike rubbed his aching neck. "If you don't mind… we'd really prefer not to talk about it. Could we just get moving?"

They continued on, gravel crunching under their feet. Up ahead, a building loomed. Mike couldn't make out the details in the dark. Was this Angel's domain? It didn't look like much, but he'd learned not to make assumptions. All manner of fantastic, dangerous stuff could be waiting for them.

They halted. "Wait," Winnie whispered, looking around behind her. Elly's glasses glinted in the lustrous moonlight. Hannah's shadow was all that could be seen, as she crouched off to the side. Leonard looked around, curious. TK was doing a one-person tango, but silently.

"We wait here," she continued, "until the distraction's begun."

The students in the gymnasium milled around, impatience mixing with anticipation as they stood. Most of them couldn't make out what was occurring at the front of the gym.

Kyle, the rock-enthusiast student council member, looked around at his friends. "Do you think they made it," he asked, anxious. "I mean, if the teachers catch them…"

Tiffany, who had been dragged along with much reluctance, cringe. She held her arms in close, trying desperately not to be shuttled back and forth by the crowding bodies all around. "If-they don't-show-can we-go home?" she squeaked, shivering with distaste.

Suddenly, there was a yell, a call that started in the front and swept to the back. The lights dove off, only to be replaced with glittering spotlights which illuminated the stage (even in a school as large as this one, the auditorium had still been combined with the gymnasium. Budget cuts, the students supposed.)

And then, a proud foursome was revealed, standing posed with sharp instruments. As the students cheered, Girls Dead Monster beamed out.

"All right, It's great to see everybody," Hayley whistled, waving. "Now, who's ready to _cut loose_," she cried, as her hand swung down to the guitar.

Mike blinked. A spark of sound has sprung up, catching their ears playfully. Looking across the yawning grounds, he traced the source of the music to a glow of light that had appeared, filtered out of the windows of the gym.

Winnie's ear bud crackled. "_The distraction has commenced_," came Bridget's professional tones

Fred's fist clenched with satisfaction. "Excellent." She flipped off the mike, and turned to her team, waiting behind her. "All right. Operation: Infiltration, Start!"

They broke into a run, Mike panting to keep up. Before he knew it, they had passed through some form of door, and had entered the mysterious structure. With hushed footsteps, they passed through passage and stair. Mike struggled to make out his surroundings in the darkness. They suddenly stopped. Over the racing heartbeats of his companions around him, Mike could make out what had halted them. Asmall, simple door was set into the wall.

Where could this lead, he thought breathlessly, as Emmanuel, the resident burglar, made his way to it. Some kind of inner sanctum?

However, Emm was able to break through the door easily. With a deliberate movement, he swung it open.

The Battlefront fighters rushed in, guns and blades pointed and aimed. They flew in on a blitzkrieg.

"Clear," Harry called from the back.

"…Clear…" Hannah murmured, dropping down from the ceiling.

With squinted eyes, Mike made his way in, feeling utterly useless. What… It almost looked like just a normal room in here… What kind of Domain was this? He could barely see. Oh, wait a light switch by the door! Let's get some light in-"

With one casual motion, the room filled with light. Everyone froze. Emm blinked by the bookcase full of textbooks and novels, Hannah frowned on the wooden dresser, TK paused in the process of examining a clothesbasket full of neatly folded uniforms, Harry was caught checking under the small, tidily made bed.

"Turn that light off!" Winnie hissed, brushing past a frozen Mike.

At the touch, he melted, his voice ringing out as he boiled with rage. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU ALL DOING? THIS IS A GIRL'S BEDROOM, YOU JERKS! What, this is _the girl's dormitory_? We can't go through her stuff like this, it's-"

His voice faltered, coming to a shuddering halt as his throat was menaced. Jake's halberd glittered, inches away from Mike's quivering Adam's apple.


	20. Chapter 20

"I'd shut it, if I were you." Jake hissed.

Fred flicked off the lights, and brushed past Mike's threatened figure, totally ignoring him. She settled in front of a small computer, the monitor glowing to life as she tapped the keyboard. "All right, agent Leonard," she called, pulling the small figure towards her as she indicated the login screen. "Time for you to get to work."

As the piece ended, Hayley slowed, lightly playing a simply rhythm to keep the momentum going. Something felt wrong, something was missing. Without telling her telling them, her fingers started picking up a new rhythm, and broke into the opening of a new song.

Her friends picked up on the familiar tones immediately, and joined in.

"Alchemy?" Jess whispered from beside her, bouncing on her heels in preparation for the lead guitar's major entrance. "Why this early?"

Hayley only smiled. For some reason, all she could think about was that young girl, telling Hayley how much she had affected her life. She wanted to play that girl's song.

The crowd roared, energy intensifying, as they recognized the melody of one of their favorites. People, called out of bed by cell phone calls from friends, or struck by the sounds of the concert while up studying, came streaming through the gym doors to join the throng. On the outskirts of the gym, Julie beamed, barely able to move with joy. When Hayley finally spoke, her fierce words flying out over the guitars, Julie sang along, word for word.

_I __want to live forever, everyone wants to live forever_

_But my shackles of life, I just can't sever_

_When I have life, where is my fear?_

Out in the gardens, Angel paused, and listened. She put the trowel aside, and stood up from her work. She had hoped that they wouldn't go through with it, but it appeared that it had occurred regardless. The rules were being flouted without any regard for the school. As she headed towards the school, she hesitated. She could feel something; something was going on in her room. It would have to wait. The disturbance in the Gym would be ended.

Leonard cracked his knuckles with one prim motion. Moving Fred aside gently, he procured a flash drive, and deliberately inserted it into Angel's computer. He sidled closer to the computer, and began to click, tap, and examine, the glowing monitor reflected off his spectacles as he worked. "Hurry it up, man," Fred hissed from beside him. We don't have time.

His noise wrinkled with distaste. "These things can't be rushed," he complained. "And, I told you, call me Christ."

Jake took his blade away from Mike long enough to brandish it at the geek working on the computer. "What kind of useless punk are you," he snarled scornfully.

Mike took the opportunity to draw a gulp of air. "You guys can't do this!" he exclaimed. "This is her personal property, you can't just look through someone's computer-"

He felt a presence behind him. Richie's brick of a hand fell on his shoulder meaningfully.

"Be Quiet, Mike," Richie ordered simply. "We don't want anyone to hear."

Harry scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "He's got a point though. I don't want to think about what would happen if any of you saw what was on my compute-"

Fred took the time to slap him firmly, and then turned back to Leonard. "Well? How's it going?"

Leo drew back, and with one final, overly dramatic flourish, clicked enter. The welcome screen appeared. "It is done," he pronounced proudly. "Now, call me Christ-"

"Excellent!" Fred beamed, neatly elbowing him out of the chair as she swept in, her eyes lighting up as she started in on the computer of the Angel.

"_Even though life is precious to me,_

_I'd waste it, you see_

"_I'll just wait and have a snack to chow"_

_With pride, I've quit thinking that I can give up the now"_

Hayley took a breath, swallowing a gulp of air down her burning mouth. She felt like she only could feel when she played, on fire, intensely alive. She looked around, pumping her guitar as she did, her friends moved in sync with her, fighting with every ounce of their being. All around them, their audience was part of the music, stamping their feet in time as they sang along.

Isn't that what all rock stars, what any music player wants? To feel their soul resonate with the song, to move to the strength of feeling?

She swallowed again. It was the most pleasurable thing she knew, yeah. When she'd been alive, she'd loved it, and had thought that that was her destiny, to rock for the feeling. But even now, here, it was the same as before. The feeling faded, evaporating in the morning like a forgotten mist, leaving only emptiness and absence. She just, she didn't know-

A cry of alarm rang out, and they noticed a disturbance near the front of the gym.

The crowd of students was being steadily jostled aside. A team of teachers, the gym teacher, the science teacher, and a few others, were heading straight for them, intent. Hayley whirled around, grimacing. There, peeking out at the very back of the gym, she saw the pale glimmer, the white shadow of Angel, watching them.

"They're not taking us down that easily," she roared to her companions. She readied herself for another go, as the bridge of Alchemy approached. "HIT IT!"

Fred groaned with discontent, as she scrolled. "I don't get it… It's a list of all the students! What could she be planning to use this for?"

"Is she going to hunt us all down?" Luke worried.

Fred narrowed her eyes. "Possibly. Maybe-"

Mike broke away from those constraining him, moaning. "Guy's, come on! She's the Student Body President! It's a _class roster_!"

Fred pushed back from the computer, glaring. "Well, _Mike_, where is it? We know she has to have some way to communicate with God, somewhere around here. How do we access it?"

Mike came over, and perused the desk. It was very neat, everything was in place, or had been. In the space of the few minutes they'd been there, a cub of pens had fallen over, and papers had been strewn from corner to corner.

Still, something caught his eye. A program case, leaning against the console. It was the only one that had been left out. He picked it up, squinting to read the cover in the dim lighting.

"Angel Player?"

"There's a program called Angel Player near the bottom," Leonard said, pointing at the icon impatiently, still upset at being shunned from the computer.

Winnie stared at it for a moment, and then clicked it. A loading screen appeared, a glistening symbol, slowing rotating on the monitor. They waited.

The symbol disappeared, and a display appeared. As they read, their eyes grew larger and larger with each icon.

"What the heck is this…" Jake muttered.


	21. Chapter 21

"Now…" the gym teacher spoke, slurred voice resonating around the gym. "We won't have any more of this."

Hayley grimaced, glaring frustration at the man, as she struggled to free her arms from the teacher holding them behind her back. All around her, the other band members had been similarly constrained, with the audience watching in dazed confusion.

"You jerks," Jess howled, her eyes dark balls of fury. "We're not harming anyone! We're just giving them a concert! It's one of the only ways students can actually _enjoy _themselves at these stupid schools!"

The audience started to rumble in agreement.

The gym teacher glared out at them, and they were silent. You didn't mess with the man who controlled how many laps you ran. "That's enough," he proclaimed, turning around to chastise the students. "This school will have order. Now, all of you get back to your dormitories, right now!"

At the back of the gym, Angel turned away. Her work was finished. With silent, gliding steps, she began to traverse the path back to her room.

"Handsonic," the caption read. When Fred clicked on it, a pixilated 3-d image was generated, of a thin, stout blade materializing on the hand of a computer-generated figure. At the side of the screen, an uncomprehend able stream of programming followed the materialization of the weapon.

"Defense applications, Guardskill:" Elly read incredulously. "Handsonic, Delay, Distortion, Return…"  
"Wait a second," Richie spluttered, scratching the dome of his head heavily. "Angel's powers are controlled by a computer?"

"Quiet," Fred snapped tersely. She moved through the program, under each Guardskill caption was a short description of the application, and off to the side, an endless stream of programming.

"Interesting…." Leo murmured, leaning in. "it appears that-"

He was interrupted by a buzz of static. "_Fred_!" Bridget's voice called out. They all tensed, she spoke with urgency utterly alien to Bridget. "_Fred_," she repeated, "_the distraction team has been taken out, they're all down. Angel's disappeared. She could be there any moment_!"

"We're out of time," Hannah muttered, pulling the curtains back as she gazed out the window. The spotlights at the gym had gone still.

"Shouldn't we leave, like, right now?" Luke asked nervously.

"But, we just started looking at this!" Elly protested. "We have to find out what it all means, where Angel's method of divine communication, the source of her power is held! If it's this program, then we need to understand it."

Despite his feeling concerning their presence in someone else's bedroom, Mike couldn't help but agree with Elliot. As he examined the curious program, his curiousity only mounted.

While the others bickered, Fred had continued to search systematically, navigating from menu to menu. But you could tell she was only becoming more frustrated. The program was loquacious, few words were under three syllables, arcane symbols and mathematical algorithms were littered everywhere. None of them could make hide or hair of it, beside the fact that it was somehow connected to Angel's abilities.

As every moment passed, the sense of grim anticipation pervading them mounted, they could feel her drawing near, step by step. Finally, Winnie stood up.

"All right, let's go," she muttered.

"Should we take the computer?"

"No. Now we know a little more about how she operates. We don't want her to change things around. Let's go."

Bumbling and bumping, the Battlefront skittered back into the dormitory hallway, and back down the stairs. They were almost at the door, escape in sight, when Winnie spoke.

"Stop," she whispered, and her army froze at the command, concealed in the shadows of the hallway.

There, standing in the open doorway, was Angel. She stood perfectly still, listening.

"Shoot," Harry cursed, whispering. "What now?"

"F*** you!" You moronic slime balls, just f*** you!" Jess screamed.

Hayley watched her friend, worried. She knew Jess had anger issues. And she knew being forcibly constrained by a someone stronger than her, an adult teacher, would be putting her through a lot. Hayley looked around, desperately thinking of what to do. Something felt wrong, she felt like something had to be done. The audience shifted, watching the scene playing out with a horror. And there, peeking out with that silly pink hair was the girl, the member of the distraction team. Julie, Hayley suddenly remembered. Julie was gaping up at Girls Dead Monster, anguished.

"…simply disgraceful," the P.E teacher was going on, kicking the equipment out from under him. "This is a school, not a circus. Here, what about this…" he picked up the old acoustic, and perused it contemptuously. "Where'd you even find this piece of junk, it looks ancient… I'm sure no one would mind if we threw it-"

"_No!_" Hayley screamed a desperate need to protect filling her. Her cry startled her captor, and his grip loosened. She slipped out of the teachers arms, and was able snag the guitar from the startled adult's hands, before backing away.

Jess took advantage of the opportunity. With a snarl, she snapped down on her constrainer's heel. Before they could react, she was off, racing across the stage to the wings. One of the other teachers started to follow, panting as his long legs began to shift. But as he reached out to grab Jess back, he suddenly came tumbling to the ground with a grunt.

Before anyone could react to Bridget tripping the teacher, she had nodded meaningfully at Hayley, and disappeared back into the crowd of students.

The P.E. teacher shook his head with a grunt. "Leave her," he said, turning back to Hayley. "Give it up, Miss. All of these instruments are going to be confiscated. Let go of it."

Back stage, Jess hadn't fled the gym. She sprinted through doors, up stairs, and into the sound room. Jess glanced down through the glass window at the stage below. Her friend stood with her back against the wall, her guitar the only thing between her and the staff.

Go for it, Hayley, she thought, turning the speakers back on, then linking the sound to every speaker throughout the school.

"Come on, give it here," the teacher growled at Hayley again. He was tired, and it was far too late for him to have to deal with this kind of thing. He made a grab for the instrument.

In reaction, Hayley's arm flew up, and he flinched, anticipating a blow. But all that came was a sweeping chord. The teachers relaxed, confusion giving them pause. Behind them everyone else watched, astonished, and listened as Hayley started to strum, the earthy acoustic sounds floating through the gym.

"A new song…" Julie breathed.

"_Grey skies, Angry morning. Blood on the wall, I'm still learning_

_I shout, you cry, it still hurts, and I'll still try_

_Hatred floods in, a dirty world eats_

_Our innocence, our pride, our feats_

_But oh, I'll still sing, sing my song_

_For you. And for me."_

The Battlefront paused in their worrying, confused. Angel had turned away from perusing the room, and was looking outside, at the cool night sky. As they did, they heard a lilt of words, humming through the air on invisible wings.

"_You're crying for sure, you're lonely for sure_

_ For living as human, there is no cure." _

Mike in took some breath as he recognized the notes drifting from the distant speakers. It was Hayley's rejected ballad, _My Song._

And, with a deliberate movement, Angel left the door frame, and began to wander away, towards the music.

Hayley continued through her song, holding the world at bay around her. As she went in further, and further, the people around her became less clear, until she was alone, just her and the instrument wrapped around her arms.

I'm so happy, she thought suddenly. This world gave me a chance to do it all again. And, even before I died… I guess I'm happy about before, as well. It was tough, yeah, but… Sad Machine, those guys, they reached me. Thanks to them, I found something I loved. Thanks to them, I found a way to be happy regardless of what my home had become.

"_There's a door, waiting at the end._

_ I'm waiting for you, here is my hand…"_

She smiled to herself, eyes shut. For Sad Machine, their music had become more than a source of pleasure. It had reached her, had touched her life. They had saved her.

Hey, she realized suddenly, her eyes blinking open suddenly. The thought of Julie appeared in her head. That's what I want to do. Not just create a feeling. I want to reach someone, to touch them.

"_This world is ugly, burns in its hatred._

_ But because it's where I've met you_

_ It is beautiful, a miracle._

_ Thank you."_

Everything Hayley could see was disappearing, blurring into beautiful white. That's what I want, she thought again, swallowing.

I want to use my music, to save someone.

Just like I was saved.

Ah…

With a heavy clunk, the guitar fell to the floor, it's rattling echoing around the silent room as it settled onto the ground. Everyone stared, utterly silent, at the spot where Hayley had stood. She was gone.

Angel blinked, and then turned away from the door. She… she hadn't been expecting that, there had been more to that punk rocker than she had realized. Tonight, there was nothing more for her to do.

**A/N End of Mission Three. Thanks for participating, everyone who's come this far. If anyone has an any thoughts on the story, feel free to let me know. I can always use guidance.**


	22. Chapter 22

Angel worked all alone outside the cafeteria, carefully removing posters. The honors art classes would be finishing their semester end projects soon, and someone needed to clear a place on the walls. As she worked, she hummed a simple melody. She glanced down at the gaudy pile of papers before her. She liked the melody, she decided. It was beautiful.

Fred tapped her desk menacingly, gaze sweeping over her subordinates. "Last night's mission once more ended in failure," she declared ominously, not blinking. "And, there shall be… recriminations."

"What are you talking about?" Mike protested, standing up. "We snuck into her room! We even found that weird computer program!"

"But, we didn't find how she communicates with God," Richie noted helpfully.

"Richie could you just-"

"This is so stupid…"

"Actually," Leonard broke in, pushing up his glasses as he sat, legs crossed. "I wouldn't label it a complete failure."

Winnie raised her eyes at him. "Oh, _really._"

He nodded. "Indeed. I didn't want to say it at the time, as we were rather rushed, but I did notice the connection in that program. The programming that we saw, that wasn't random." He tutted. "That was the programming for her guardskills. They are run by that computer. Now, again, please call me Christ-"

"A computer?" Luke questioned incredulously, running a hand through his mousy hair as he swayed unsteadily. "But I thought angels worked by magic!"

"Do you know how computers work?" Elly asked coolly.

"Um. No, but…"

"Precisely. It's magic."

"-As I was saying…." Leo continued with frustration. "Her guardskills are applications, made by that program… And… we could use that program, Angel Player, to edit her guardskills." Winnie regarded him thoughtfully. "Very, interesting… thanks, Leonard."

"I told you, call me-"

Interesting… she thought again, cradling her head. Why on earth would God choose to give his servant powers in the form of a program? Maybe-

"Hey…" a voice spoke up. It was the new guy, Mike again. He sure did ask a lot of questions. "I was just wondering, because no one else really seems to be talking about it," he said awkwardly. "But, what happened to Hayley, last night? I know Angel went to stop her, and then… but, I thought that in this world, we couldn't die?"

At his words, a pall broke over them. TK stopped singing, and started to frown out the window.

Way to go, dufus, Winnie cursed to herself. "Look, you're new here, so it's all right to be confused," she explained, using an imperious tone. "But she didn't die. She was obliterated."

Mike's eyes widened. "Obliterated? But, but I thought that only happened if you went along with Angel! Hayley was definitely still fighting, she didn't give up!"

Winnie looked around. Everyone else looked just as confused, and forlorn, as Mike. They all had liked Hayley, and missed her. Her departure had left them shook, and worried. Winnie felt just as confused.

"Look, we don't know exactly how this world works, all right? Weird things like that… have happened occasionally. We're just going to have to get over it.

"We have an applicant to fill Hayley's place as GirlDeMo's lead singer," Winnie proclaimed, waving in a figure from the back of the room. "Julie Oakland."

With a hop, skip, and a jump, the girl pranced to the center of the room, to smile out at them.

"Oh dear mercy, It's _you_," Harry recognized.

"Yep! It's me! Hiya, everybody!" Julie chirruped, literally spinning in excitement.

Elliot coughed. "Uh, excuse me, little girl, but I think you're confused. Girl's Dead Monster is a rock band… aren't you thinking of a pop group?

"No!" she exclaimed vehemently, mouth open. "I love GirlDeMo! I know all of their songs, _everything_.

"Right…" Emmanuel muttered.

"Just looks like a groupie to me," Jake sniffed suspiciously.

Julie put her hands on her hips, her lips pouting. "You jerks! Don't start judging me before you've even heard me!"

"She certainly has a different outlook than Hayley," Winnie noted neutrally.

"Yeah… Hayley was actually great to listen to, while listening to her makes me want to go poke out my eardrums."

"In a nutshell, she's incredibly annoying."

"Enough, enough! Julie grumbled, pulling a shiny red guitar out of her case, and plugging it into the amp. "Just be quite for half a moment, and give me a chance!"

When the sound broke through, they did fall silent, more out of surprise that she could actually play guitar than anything. Mike listened to her performance openly. He really liked it, he decided. Yes, she wasn't Hayley, and in some ways lacked Hayley's natural style. But she had passion, and you could hear it in her voice.

However, men who have given an opinion are loathe to change it, especially when only confronted with something as inconsequential as facts. "Didn't touch my heart," Emm sniffed dismissively.

"She's a real nowhere man, man." TK sang huskily.

"I simply can't see her as a rock singer," Elly said dryly.

"I don't know… she definitely has the spirit," Winnie added. "And, well, she's the only one we've had so far who's had enough guts to even try to fill Hayley's shoes."

"Aw come on," Harry complained, glaring at Julie. She glared back.

Winnie nibbled her knuckle thoughtfully. "All right, whatever. We'll just send her over to the band. They can decide what they want to do with her."

Julie gasped. "I'm… I'm going to meet GirlDeMo? _Ohmygoshohmygoshoh my gosh!_" Julie clasped her hands together with ecstasy. "I'll get to meet Jess! Ooh…her murderous riff is absolutely killer! She has the skills of a demon and the burning energy of a thousand-"

"They're going to fire you," Elliot broke in confidently.

"Huh?"

"Yep. You are going to be fired," Harry agreed bluntly.

With a growl, Julie started to stalk towards Harry, and was abruptly halted when he planted his hand against her forehead, yawning as she struggled towards him, arms flailing.

Winnie sprung back up the front of the room. "Ehem! Now, to business. To overcome our recent loss, we must retaliate! So, to strike back as quickly as possible, we shall all be entering in the ball tournament being held tomorrow. The goal: To defeat Angel."

Everyone cheered, except Hannah, who rolled her eyes, and Mike, who raised his fist half heartedly. "Whoo…hoo?"

"You will need to create your teams today, and then register with a sports instructor. And… one more thing…"

"Uh-oh…" Emmanuel prophesized darkly.

"As an incentive… there shall be a penalty for all, if we fail to defeat our foe. The details, of course, will be decided as necessary."

Everyone gulped. After a moment, Harry stood up, eager. "Well, no time to waste! Let's get going!"

The tension broke, and The Battlefront spilled out the door, laughing. Mike got up to his feet. "We better be careful," Harry said from beside him. "Fred really means it… Hey," he put his hand on Mike's shoulder, staring at him intently. "I really need you man…" "Uh… Again, are you…"

"NO! Quit reading things the wrong way, moron! I just want you to be on my team, for the game!"

Mike laughed, happy to finally get a reaction out of someone. "I'm kidding. But, warning, I don't really know how to play any sports."

Harry smirked, eyebrows popping as they strolled out into the hallway. "Oh, that won't be a problem. I've gotten along here for so long by surviving off of my popularity. I've got our team all planned out…"


	23. Chapter 23

"_What do you mean you're already taken?" _ Harry growled, decimated.

Jess frowned at him. "Elly's already asked me to join his team for the game."

"but, but, why didn't you _wait _for me?'

"Elly's team looks to be stronger. To best ensure myself avoiding Fred's penalty, it was logical to go with his team. Waiting for your paltry request makes absolutely no sense."

Mike watched her go, subdued. "Hey… did it look like she'd been crying?"

"This is terrible," Harry moaned, not hearing. "She's a prize batter, those guitar arms…" He sprung up, revitalized as another thought struck him. "But, it doesn't matter! Ol' Richie the fifth will have waited for me, and he's amazing enough at any kind of physical exercise to count for three men!" Harry chuckled lightly, gazing off into the distance as they wandered between two towering school buildings, heading off across the river to where Richie the fifth trained during the mornings. "We're known each other a really long time… We're kinda like, busum buddies. It's a bit embarrassing, actually," Harry laughed. "Yeah… He'll come through-"

"_What do you mean no_?" Harry cried, pounding a tree in frustration.

"I'm sorry," Richie apologized earnestly. "But I've already agreed to play for Leonard's team." Richie the fifth continued his workout as he spoke, benching the fallen log with steady motions. "I can't break my word."

"But, but…"

"And, well, the deciding factor was probably when he offered me a box of crackers."

A wind blew through trees, sending leaves spiraling to the ground. Harry's eye twitched.

"Before, he was all, 'we're like busum buddies,' quickly followed by, 'this is really embarrassing.'" Mike said helpfully.

"_Shut up," _Harry growled, grabbing Mike by the collar as they stormed off.

"So much for surviving off of your popularity," Mike said teasingly as they stalked on a path overlooking the track. "Got any other ideas?"

"Well, there's still TK, of course."

"Why's he called TK? And… what's up with all the…"

Harry glanced behind him at Mike. "He calls himself TK. No one knows why, just as no one knows anything about who he was in his past life… yes, he is truly shrouded in mystery…  
Mike struggled to keep up with Harry. "Really… I thought he was just high all the time…"

It took a moment for Harry to respond. When he did his tone was slowed, subdued. "No. there's no drugs here, of any kind, all right? There are no drugs here." Harry kept striding. "TK's just eternally mellow, I suppose. But, knowing TK, I know we can rely on him."

Again, Harry looked off into the distance, sentiment flooding him. "Good 'Ol TK. I know he'll stick by me."

Harry stewed, unable to speak.

Mike patted him companionably. "Who would have thought that Elly would already have gotten to him?"

"Grrr…."

Mike looked around the cafeteria. Most of the other Battlefront members had already congregated into groups, plotting their game strategies. "What kind of ball is this, anyway?  
Harry straightened up, interest renewed. Mike was realizing it was hard to keep this guy down for long. "It's baseball," Harry replied eagerly. "And, we need nine people for a team…"

"Looks like _you _guys are in a bind," a bright voice chirruped from behind them.

They whirled around. Julie stood, poised on a table, smiling down at them. "I saw the whole things. Looks like you guys really need a team mate, huh?"

"Wait… how long have you been following us?" Mike asked.

Julie sprung down, and elbowed Harry in the chest playfully. "Well… I would be a great asset!"

Harry snorted, pushing her away. "Yeah right, freshman. Like you could be good for anything more than shark bait… wait." Harry froze, eyes narrowing as he brought his fist to his chin.

"Wait a second…" he thought aloud. "If pitcher slams her in that massive head with the throw, then he'll get thrown out! That's it! All right, little crazy, you're our first batter!"

As Harry had been speaking, Julie's face had filled up with violet, until she was shaking. "You jerk!" she howled, sending a flying kick crashing into Harry's chin. Harry spun away, then, with a growl, came back, catching his assailant in a full tackle as they went down to the ground, fighting like cats and dogs.

"You know," Mike said thoughtfully. "We really aren't getting any of the people you had your heart set on, Harry. We really don't have much of a choice."

"That's right," Julie agreed, springing back up, neon hair bouncing. "And no one plays b-ball better than this girl. Julie! _Meow!_"

At this, Harry stopped getting up, his face contorted in a grimace. "You…. I dare you… say that again…"

"Julie! _Meow!"_

With a roar, they crashed to the ground, Harry making a game attempt make a knot out of the fan girl's arms. "_Oh sweet-mercy that is the single most annoying thing I've ever heard, you…"_

"Owww! Hey, you're hurting me… what kind of upper classman are you?"

"_The kind that shall purify this school of all annoying twerps._"

Mike chuckled at them, dodging their flying blows carefully. "Come on, guys. We need to go find some more people."

They peeked through the door cautiously. Only darkness and smell of gym sweat could be discerned. "Hannah?" Harry called out, as they cautiously entered the P.E. storage room. "You in here?"

"Why would she be in here?" Mike asked, curious.

"She doesn't like to be around people, generally. She usually lurks around here unless we're having a meeting, and she's needed in some kind of anti-Angel endeavor. She-"

"What do you want?" a low voice sounded. Hannah's pale face appeared, peering around a shelf. "Oh… It's you. What is it?"

Harry winked at her. "We want you to be on our team, for the baseball tournament," Harry explained eagerly. "And, you have the best reflexes, speed, and agility of anyone of the Battlefront, so…"

Hannah looked down at the ground. "I… I wouldn't know anything about all that," she denied somberly. "I just… I can't get it out of my head. How I lost to _him_."

Harry blinked. "What… do you mean the last Operation Parachute? I suppose it was pretty amazing that Mike was apple to go farther than any of the rest of us."

Hannah continued to keep her gaze on the cold floor, her long, ebony hair hanging in chords around her. "It's pathetic… That someone like him was able to prove more useful then I, it proves that… I am weak. I should be stronger."

"Hey, come on," Mike broke in heatedly. "I just got lucky. Everyone knows that."

"But," Hannah continued. "If there is one path that, even with all of my training to improve, one path that you could still be superior… It would be concentration. To redeem myself, I must prove my concentration."

A weighty silence fell over them. They watched her, unable to speak.

"And so, to prove my concentration… I have resolved to do everything whole balancing this broom on my finger," she declared, stepping out from behind the shelf to reveal the spindly broomstick, held aloft by her hand.

"She's a moron like the rest of us," Julie hypothesized in awe.

With her free hand, Hannah made the come-hither gesture at Mike, her eyes narrowing violently. "So. Now, let us settle the matter of our capabilities once and for all, right here, right now." Mike backed away from the fiery eyed girl before him. "What the heck are you talking about? And… do I have to balance a broom also?"

"Of course not! This will prove my advantage in concentration! We shall fight!" "Yes, yes, of course," Harry broke in hastily. "But, uh, first, the preliminaries! To prove your combat superiority, you must first outperform Ol' Mike in baseball! Right Mike?"

"What… oh, yeah, I guess so."

Hannah tilted her head, eyes gleaming in the gloom. Then she straightened, her hand held at her side, the broom balanced easily. "Very well," she agreed.

Cautiously, they peered over the boulder. A short distance away, grunting by the trickling shores of the river, Jake practiced. With exaggerated cries and exclamations he spun and jumped, performing elaborate moves with his beloved halberd.

"Do we really have to ask this moron?" Julie huffed.

"Ah, but we can _use _idiots. No one else in the Battlefront wants him, he's irrational, violent and impulsive, not to mention only follows orders from Fred. But… as you can see, he really knows how to swing a stick around."

"Aha! I see you've come to _finish _our duel," Jake called as they approached. Sweet watermelon, Mike cursed, why does everyone want to beat me up? Is it something about my face?

"Listen, I don't want to-"

Harry threw a hand over Mike's mouth. "Yes! Conflict! But… how about you two settle things on the baseball field eh?" Harry eyed Jake's confused face. "Physical strength alone isn't enough to impress Winifred… If you know what I mean…"  
Jake swore, and covered for his sudden unnerving by pointing his blade menacingly at Mike. "Very well… We shall finish this on the ball field!"

Julie whispered to Mike quietly. "The moron… He doesn't even know he's being used."

"You shall have your chance with the new one once I am finished," Hannah said coolly, the broom swaying in the breeze.

"Ah, really? Well, try to leave some recognizable peaces behind, all right?"

Mike hung back from the rest as they walked back up from the river. This was getting ridiculous. He felt a crash test dummy in a nuclear testing facility.


	24. Chapter 24

They looked on in disappointment as yet another Battlefront member walked away, already taken. "All of the other Battlefront members have been chosen sides already," Mike pointed out awkwardly. "And we still only have five people."

Harry grit his teeth. "I guess we have no choice. We're going to have to invite some of the normal students."

"NPC's? That should be interesting," Hannah observed sagely.

Julie frowned at the older girl. "You know, everything you say sounds incredibly silly while you're still balancing that broom." Suddenly, Julie kicked out at the teetering pole. "Hiii-yah!"

Hannah dodged easily, moving to the side with a simple step, and then avoiding Julie's next three attacks just as easily. "What are you even trying to do?" she asked, curious, then stepped out of the way to avoid Julie's next charge. They dodged back and forth, flitting around, Hannah starting to smile a little as Julie huffed in frustration.

"Aw, come on you two, quit it," Mike admonished. "Harry, could you get these elementary schoolers to… Harry?"

Harry had turned away, unresponsive. His face was in repose, staring up at the brilliant noon-day sun with a transfixed expression, as if there was something only his eyes could see. At Mike's renewed entreaties, he resurfaced.

"Wha… huh? Oh, yeah. We need more people."

"Oh, oh, I know!" Julie cried, struggling vainly to reach Hannah, who was holding her opponent off with one palm, while elegantly balancing the tool in the other. Mike rolled his eyes at her, Hannah grinned a little bit back. "I know where we can find someone," Julie continued. "Let's just ask my friends!"

"Like, you see, all of us are like, totally…"

"Kinda Julie's biggest fans!"

"…more like her personal bodyguards…"

Mike and Harry stared glassy eyed at the three freshman NPC's before them in resignation. It was bad enough that they weren't even normal humans, but, to be friends with _Julie_…

"I haven't let the possibility of being in GirlDeMo go to my head," Julie promised stoutly. "I've been continuing to hold performances to my friends, to maintain my indie roots."

"This isn't even worth getting violent about," Jake said sadly.

Mike turned to Harry. "Is this enough? We have eight people now."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "It'll have to be, we're almost out of time. I've got it; we cut out the middle outfielder, and have the right and left fielder's cover that area. That should do it!"

"Dude, I don't even play baseball, and that seems dodgy to me."

"Thanks for the confidence booster, buddy."

"_The tournament has begun without a hitch. Driven by excitement, and by no small amount of apprehension over whatever you might have planned for them if they lost, Elliot and Leonard's teams pulled ahead against their early opponents_," Bridget described calmly.

Winnie nodded, watching the events of the games from the HQ window. She put down her binoculars, grinning happily. "Excellent. I wonder how _poor little Angel_ will deal with this."

Mike examined the standings bulletin board curiously. All of the Battlefront teams were doing well.

"Right," Harry burbled, brimming with confidence. "All we have to do is follow suit. If we can get seven runs ahead, they'll end the game on a mercy rule. We got this guys!"

As they arrived at one of the baseball fields, the students in charge could do little to hide their disappointment, as they recognized the tell-tale alternate uniforms. "Not another team of you-people," the organizer groaned. "I thought hooligans just played hooky all the time."

"Hey, we're technically students here too!" Harry argued fiercely. "We have a right to play!"

"Whatever. You'll play against entry number twelve, 'Team hashtag you only live once'"

Team Harry went off to huddle. "All right gang, here's the scoop," Harry began. "Mike, you're up to bat first-"

"What? Why does that punk get to go first?" Jake snarled indignantly.

"Easy, my testosterone-fueled friend, easy. Mike will go, and then me, then Hannah. You can handle that Hannah?" she nodded tightly. "Excellent. And then Jake, you bring us home. You lose the manliness contest if you don't bring us all home, am I clear?'

Jake sniffed, crossing his arms. "Sounds easy enough."

Harry grinned a full, lively smile. "Great! All right guys, let's slay this. Goooo… TEAM!" He threw his fist up in the air. A few seconds after, Mike and the NPC girls echoes the motion out of politeness, with a pitiful "Wooo…"

Harry withered. "Ok…"

Mike stood at the plate, facing the pitcher, ready. An unusual thought was presenting itself. He couldn't ever remember hearing of the game called baseball before yesterday. But as he went along, he had found himself knowing things, such as the players, and the stance, without having to ask. In fact, they had come to mind automatically, without him needing to think about them. Now that he thought about it, whenever he tried to directly recall his life before, he was blocked. But the rest of time little bits of how normal life worked, like what an election was, random pieces of historical trivia, and the name of which pop star had recently broken up with Taylor Swift, would just come back automatically, without him even asking. He-

CRACK! The bat swung in front of his startled eyes as he stepped through with decent form, sending the pitch bouncing past second. Did I do that, he wondered, awed. Wait, Harry's yelling something; maybe he has an answer-

"GET YOUR STUPID BUTT MOVING!" Oh. Oh yeah!

Mike made it to first on time, and Harry and Hannah both managed to get on base.

Jake stepped up to the plate with slow, deliberate steps. Somewhere in the distance he knew, Fred was watching him. The time had come to showcase his natural abilities as a warrior. He-

"Hey! Are you ready?" the ump asked from behind him.

Jake blinked down at the NPC imperiously. "Ready? Ready for what?"

"Sigh… Just go on ahead…"

Smirking, the other team's pitcher flung a hot one right across the base. SMACK! With ridiculous ease, Jake swung the bat backhanded. They all watched the white piece of cloth fly out, farther, farther, and crash into a bush on the other side of the defense.

"Home run!"

"Sweet!" Harry exulted, grinning at the scoreboard. They had managed four runs in the first inning, and the batters they were now facing looked pretty dispirited.

"Why am I pitching," Mike complained from the mound. "I don't even know how to-"

"Aw, shut it Mike. Just put your arm into it!" Harry encouraged. Jake glared at his rival out of his catcher's mask. "Come on, hit me, punk!"

Mike's first pitch slapped right into Jakes mitt, leaving the batter stunned at the amateur's surprising speed. Hey, Mike thought, I'm actually pretty good at this-"

"Is that the best you can do, wimp!" Jake jeered, before pelting the ball back at his pitcher. Mike caught it, his mitt slamming against his chest with the impact.

"What the heck's your problem, jerk!" he yelled back, before returning the ball with equal velocity.

"Hah! At least I don't have silly putty for guts!" Jake parried, standing to chuck the ball with hazardous force.

"Idiot!"

"Cannon-fodder newbie!"

"Numbskull!"

"Angel bait!"

"Feeling-insensitive bully!"

Harry watched his fielding team bicker and throw baseballs at each other, shaking as he boiled over. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING? DON'T PLAY BASEBALL BY YOURSELVES!"

"They're morons," Julie explained.

" WAIT FOR THERE TO BE A BATTER BEFORE YOU THROW FASTBALLS!"

Julie nodded sagely. "It seems that even death can't cure stupid."

"_Despite occasional mishaps, Team Harry has won their initial matchup as well. All three Battlefront teams are moving on to the final round."Bridget paused. "They seem to enjoying themselves_."

Fred smirked. "Ha! Excellent! They're all so terrified of the punishment if they fail; they're managing to crush the opposition. Leave it to those numbskulls to find a way to have fun in any situation, but still!"

The radio crackled. "_Fred, rumor has it your penalties are famous for leaving lasting emotional scars, and occasionally causing the victim to split into several different personalities, one of which is usually named Chad_," Bridget noted.

"What kind of leader would do that? That's all they are, a rumor. I've never implemented such a penalty." Fred put down her binoculars. "Oh… How will poor little Angel be dealing with this? All of the delinquents are carrying the school's baseball contest! Do we ever make it easy for the poor dear?"

Fred danced in delight, then threw her head back with a growing chuckle. "Hehehe. HehehahahahHAHAHA, MUHAHAHAHA-"


	25. Chapter 25

Harry looked up, eyes narrowing. "So… she's finally decided to show herself…"

Mike gazed in the direction Harry was facing, and his heart skipped a beat. Trooping toward them, at the head of a small crowd of others, Angel swept.

"What is she going to do…" Hannah wondered quietly. "We don't have guns or weapons. How is she going to react?"

But when Angel reached their pitch, at the head of a group of firm-faced students in formal baseball uniforms, she was silent, as per usual.

"The student council's team, reporting in for the second round," a short, primly dressed boy called out to the umpire imperiously.

Harry scrutinized the group critically. "Hey, wait a second… All of your players are members of the varsity baseball team! This isn't fair! We don't stand a chance," he admitted reluctantly.

The well-dressed boy only smirked at them. "I am vice president of the student body, Albert Lecher," he introduced without being asked. "I and the president shall be administrating this team. And, I'm afraid that the resulting score will not even by close…"

"Oh yeah," Julie snapped immediately, flying at him. "Prepare to get your butt's kissed!"

Harry caught her before she could reach them, driving her down in the dirt in a full nelson. "You idiot!" he cried, as the student council's team floated off with much a harrumph and noble look. "It's butts kicked! Kissing _gives the opposite impression, little ditz!_"

"Hey-oh, I'm sorry, Uncle, Uncle! If you keep pulling my arms, I won't be able to hit a homerun!"

"No one expects you to!"

"All right, this is getting ridiculous," Mike interceded, trying to step in between the tussling duo. He put his arm in, only to find it violently siezed upon by an unknown party, and was suddenly pulled into a ball of punches and kicks.

"This is so stupid…" Hannah observed, balancing her broom as it shifted in the breeze.

Their match versus the student body was the last of the semifinal matches. Prior to them, went their comrades under Leonard and Elliot. While they waited, Mike sat on a bench; nursing the bruises Harry and Julie had given him. Out in the outfield, Julie and her friends were giggling about something. Harry lay at his shortstop position getting "into the zone." Jake was off sulking somewhere.

Mike turned to his left. Hannah sat up against the iron mesh, staring at the tool quivering on her palm absently. He swallowed. "Hey, Hannah?"

Her eyes flickered, and the broom handle jumped a little on her hand. She rebalanced it quickly. "What is it? What do you want?"

Mike cringed. "I don't really want anything, I just wanted to see if I could try and-"

"Do you desire to settle our differences now?" she queried casually, glancing at him with her dark eyes.

"What? Oh, no, nothing like that. Trust me, I don't-"

"No. I refuse."

Mike blinked at her, squinting in the bright afternoon sun. "Refuse? What do you mean?"

She stood up gracefully, the pole never wavering. "I refuse to trust you. I am not so unwise as to make such a basic mistake." She gazed at him, trapping him in her glare. "I am not stupid, Michael. I know enough not to trust anyone, especially those who are yet unfamiliar to me."

Mike stood up as well, and started to walk towards her, reaching out his hand. "Oh, is that it? Well, it should be pretty easy for us to get to know each other. I barely know myself, so there's not much to know. Here, I'm Mike, the baffled and bruised."

She stared at his proffered hand, as might evaluate a poisoned drink. "You must be joking. Are you really that simplistic?"

He took his hand back awkwardly. "I guess so, I mean, I don't really have any hidden plots."

"But, what about you?" he continued. "You don't have to keep yourself alone, separate yourself from everyone."

Hannah eyes flitted open at his words. "Idiot. I couldn't expect you to know how things really work. You can't trust people, even if they seem to like you. _Especially _if they seem to like you. People are beasts, vicious beasts. It is incredibly difficult, and takes enormous self discipline, to be able to control oneself." She stared at him, face impassive, unreactive. "Anyone could betray you.

"I shall do whatever I can to increase my own capabilities, to ensure that I reach my goal. That is the one reason why I consent to join the Battlefront, you understand? I only consent to deal with the threat of living with others, so that I can reach my aim."

There was a crack from the baseball field next to them, as batter made contact with his target. Of a distance, the intercom buzzed, as some teacher asked for a student to report to his classroom. Above them, clouds lazily chased each other across the robin's egg sky.

Mike frowned at her. "Your aim?'

When Hannah spoke next, it was with a passion he'd never witnessed from her, a fervent anger that lit up her face like a torch. "To find the Lord. To track down our _father_, and make him pay for everything he's done to us, justice for all of the pain he's caused us." Her eyes bore into Mike's, like windows to hellfire. "I must become stronger, as strong as I can be, so that when we find him, I can bring some justice. Justice for every child he's hurt."

"Oh…" Mike replied. All he could so was stare back at her, lost. But he wasn't the only one out of sorts, he felt. Right now, she looks deadly, frighteningly powerful. But, she also looked, kinda, well, lonely.

"You know," he said cautiously, stroking his chin. "You may try to isolate yourself from everyone, but it isn't really working. Everyone in the Battlefront depends on you, they admire you, and they really like you."

She blinked, and for a moment looked smaller. The broom shifted in a sudden gust, and she hurried to rebalance it. "Well, that's not my fault! I don't want those numbskulls to be attached to me; I can't afford to attach myself to people. They're just… morons, that's all. They're all morons, that's why they don't fear me."

Mike was brave enough to attempt a small grin. "I'm a moron too, you know."

Harry walked up to them, yawning. "Hey, what's-" he started.

They suddenly recognized a sound from the field next door. A loud voice, definitely Emmanuel's, was cursing creatively.

"Uhoh," Harry muttered, glancing over. 'That can't be good."

"_Two teams have lost their semifinal games, and been eliminated. Only one Battlefront team remains. Their opponent shall be the student council's team, led by Angel."_

Fred cursed, gritting her teeth. "Damn it! Well… which one is our last team?"

"_It's team Harry…"_ Bridget replied apologetically.

"WHAT? Ah come on…"

Team Harry stood in a line, determined. Facing them, as was practice for beginning formal baseball games, was their opponent. Reluctantly, the two groups shook hands. There was a gasp as one of the players had his knuckles crushed by an eager Jake.

Harry grinned at his opposite Captain tauntingly. However, Angel had no reaction to his teasing; she only stared at him politely, and then turned to walk away with her team to their fielding position.

"She's so… not cute," Harry complained as they walked to bench. "I mean, she doesn't even acknowledge us!"

Mike glanced back at her retreating figure, confused.

At the base, Hannah hefted her bat carefully.

"Uh, why do you have the…" the umpire started to ask.

Hannah didn't bother to reply. The pitcher sneered at the girl standing on the plate, and chucked a fastball.

The broom hurtled into the air as Hannah spun, and, grasping the bat with both hands, blasted the poor sphere away. Catching the broom neatly in the cup of her palm, she proceeded to calmly traverse the bases, as the blindsided fielders attempted to scale the oak tree the ball had wedged into.

As Hannah gracefully strode over home, she glanced over at Mike, gaping on the bench. "My concentration has grown through my training," she called.

"Err… yeah; I'm pretty sure you don't need to worry about beating me on that score, Hannah."

She frowned at him, and then walked past him to sit by herself in a tree's comfortable shadow.

They made it through the first inning with a good number of runs, their time ending with Julie striking out spectacularly. However, when Mike went up onto the mound, he felt an unpleasant weight settle into the pit of his stomach as his batter glared at him, spitting. Nuts. "Time," Harry called.

"This is ridiculous," Harry complained to Mike, coming up to commiserate with him. "I mean, we can't be expected to beat an actual baseball team. Our outfield is especially _bad_," he muttered, glancing back, where Gloria and Lafanda, two of Julie's friends, were contending with defending a whole outfield, as well as their terrible, all-encompassing inability to be within five feet of the ball and not squeal and run away. Harry scowled, and turned back. He quickly did a double-take.

Richie the fifth stood sentinel in the middle of center field, calmly devouring a bowl of noodles. Noticing he was under scrutiny, he nodded amiably.

"How… how…" Harry stuttered, jaw slackened.

Mike smiled at him. "Well, his team is done, and I had some extra lunch money, so I bought him a bowl of noodles. He said he'd help."

Harry's eyes lit up, and he clapped Mike fervently on the back. "Amazing! You really came through man! Now we might actually stand a chance. Richie the fifth is incredibly loyal when it comes to food! Now the outfield's amazing!"

Indeed, Richie the fifth seemed to be everywhere on the outfield, managing an agility that seemed utterly at odds with his girth. And, the whole time, not one drop of soup was slurped.

A pop fly soared into right field. Out of nowhere, the hulk appeared, leaping up to meet the ball. But, instead of catching it, the blocked ball tumbled straight down, right into Gloria's trembling mitt. As she felt the weight, she opened her eyes in shock, staring at the ball in disbelief.

"Good job," Richie congratulated, burping gently as he resumed his noodles. Gloria blushed furiously.


	26. Chapter 26

"Three outs! Change sides!"

On the bench, Albert was sneering with fury. "What madness is this? These are only delinquents!"

Angel regarded the field calmly. She touched the brim of her cap. "_Change: pitchers," _she asked simply.

After that, the student body's team somehow rallied. They fought with the determination of wounded pride, and it was all Team Harry could do to hang on. Julie and her friends meant well, but they simply couldn't get a clip on the ball. The others were able to mainly compensate, Richie, Hannah, and Jake each proving especially useful, that is, when Jake even bothered to swing at the ball.

By the bottom of the final inning, they had hung on to their lead. But, their enemy was up to bat. Their victory was in reach, and they knew it. Mike stood on the mound, and swallowed. No. No, he couldn't. "Time,' he called.

Harry walked up to him slowly, face set. "We're ahead by one, and we've already got two outs thanks to Richie. But they've learned, they don't send any balls past the base line. Mike, if we can get one more out, we'll win this."

Mike bit his lip, torn. "I know, I know. But, I just don't know if I can pull it off. Could we change pitchers, or… Harry? Harry, what's up?"

As Harry had been describing the situation, his face had gradually slackened, until he was staring up into the sky with a distant expression. He only returned with Mike's insistent urging. "Harry, what's going on? You've been zoning out like that ever since we started this operation," Mike questioned, worried about his friend.

Harry blinked, his eyes refocusing. "What? Oh, yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. It's just; I've been in a situation very much like this before. Back when I was alive.

The messy-haired teen gave a bittersweet smile. "I was on the baseball team, you see. I was really into, it was my passion. And, we made it really far, one year, all the way to our regional contest. I guess, in the grand scheme of life, that game wasn't a big deal. But at that time, it was my life.

₪ "The day was sweltering hot; the sun blinded us whenever we tried to look up. All I could taste was the dust in my mouth; all I could hear was the yells of the crowd. It was just like it is now, bottom of the ninth; we were ahead by one, two outs. There was a popfly to shortstop, it was right to me! I reached for it, but I, but… I just can't remember whether I caught it… I've been trying to remember."

Harry coughed, running a hand through his hair. "Heh… you know what, I'm sure of it. I didn't catch it. I failed. "His eyes glimmered with a light of melancholy memories. "Oh yeah, now I remember…

"Baseball was my life; I was never good in school. And then I went and lost my team the game, lost us the season. I was devastated.

"Though no one on my team said anything to me, I knew they were all really disappointed. I'd let them all down. I started to close off; I didn't know what to do. But, someone noticed, they noticed my weakness.

"About a week after the game, one of the upperclassmen came up to talk to me. He said he'd heard what had happened and he'd seen how I was taking it rough. He said he wanted to help. He said he had something that would help me, that would make all of my worries fly away.

"And it did. What he gave me that day made my worries, and everything else fly away, at least for a while. For a little while, I could be high, higher than any worry. I loved the feeling. I needed the feeling. I bought more from him, I had to buy more. And when what I was taking wasn't doing the same thing anymore, I had to start taking even more.

Harry laughed suddenly, breaking Mike out of the web of spun memories he'd been hearing from Harry. "I won't bore you with the rest; it's really not an entertaining story, and pretty stupid to boot. Boohoo, got addicted, dropped out of school, couldn't get a job, boohoo. One day, high as bird, I wandered out onto the highway. Though it was the yellow brick road, I was going to see the wizard, to get me a brain. A truck hit me."

Mike swallowed. "Harry, that's-"

Harry immediately interrupted him. "No, don't worry about it. That was all long ago. I've had a long time to think about all of it." He rubbed his stubbly jaw teasingly. "I made some stupid mistakes, and life sucked, yeah. But, I think I'm mainly over it. It's just, I still really wish I could have caught that ball, you know?"

Mike frowned at him. He felt a chill run through him. Something was definitely familiar, in the words and the tone Harry was using, the peaceful look on his face. He couldn't place it, but…

"Let's get going!" the ump called out impatiently.

They made their way back to their positions. Richie and the two of the NPC's waited, tense in the outfields. On first Hannah lurked, eyes flashing. She looked like some crooked witch with her vertical accessory. On third, Julie had noticed a dragonfly buzzing by the foul line. They hoped it didn't go to third. At home, Jake glared at Mike, and made a cut-throat motion ominously. "Go get them, Mike!" Harry encouraged from shortstop.

Right, let's finish this, Mike thought as he loosed the ball with all the skill he possessed.

But the batter swung with the sureness of experience. With a CRACK, the ball soared straight up. They watched, locked in, as it started to descend, right towards shortstop. It was a popfly to shortstop. Seeing it, Harry's face slackened. He put up his glove.

With a sickening jolt, Mike remembered where he'd gotten the feeling he'd gotten from before. It was the same as he'd gotten from Hayley, the day of her obliteration.

With a cry of horror, he began to sprint, flying off the mound. Harry, he had the same calm, the same feeling of anticipation came of him that had come off of Hayley, as if both of them were waiting for the arrival of a long awaited guest. Angel must doing something.

"Harry, don't catch it!" Mike howled, to his mind, his feet moved as if they were in molasses.

Huh, Harry thought, watching the ball descend, picking up speed. I can do it. I can catch this, and win us the game. We'll have done it, we'll have beaten Angel, completed the mission, succeeded where the others had failed.

Finally, I'll be useful. I'll be worth something to Fred, worth something to people. I might have been worthless in life… but maybe I can be useful now.

"No!" Mike had time to howl, steps away from Harry. But his words had no affect on Harry, he was oblivious to all but the ball descending towards him. _No_. Harry was the first friend he'd managed to make here. He didn't want him to disappear.

Finally, Harry thought, satisfied. It is over-

His eyes widened in shock as he felt a crushing force materialize around his waist, and he and his assailant were sent hurling into the ground. His face was pile-drived into the dirt, and he blinked in shock, as he heard the thud of the pop fly striking the ground.

"Ha!" Julie crowed, digging her elbows into her opponent's back. "You were _wiiiiide _open, moron! Serves your right for not being kind to a lower classman!"

Harry growled. "You… you have the absolute _worst _timing, brat!" With a quick motion, he flipped onto his stomach, and caught Julie in a bear hold. They went down in a cloud of flying fists and dust.

"Runners in! Game over!" the umpire called brightly from home plate.

"No! ARRRG!" Jake roared, tearing off his catcher's mask in utter frustration.

Huh… That's funny, Mike thought, shell shocked. He heard someone walk up to him.

Hannah regarded him coolly, and then turned to mirror his attention to the tussling combatants. "I have come to the conclusion," she whispered deliberately, "that there is no real challenge to my abilities to be had here. A duel with someone as moronic and unskilled as you would only be a waste of my time." And with that, the broom fell from her palm, to thud into the dust.

Mike blinked at her, suddenly breaking into a dazzling grin, as a massive cloud of worry suddenly moved away from him. They'd made it through. "Hey, thanks," he replied, grinning at her.

She frowned at the congratulations. "This is, this is so stupid," she continued, before disappearing from view.

On a far off windowsill, Fred stepped back, seriously regretting pledging not to implement her torture penalty. "You… all… suck…" she moaned. With a sigh, she closed the window, as the beautiful day outside continued on.

**A/N. End of Mission four. As always, I thank everyone who supports this story and others that seek to create. As this story continues, I will also be posting the OVA. If you haven't seen the OVA, I think you'll enjoy it. **


	27. Chapter 27

Jess glanced at her associates. Girls Dead Monster's Drummer and Bassist, Irie and Kate, grimaced back.

"You're very… energetic," Irie noted politely.

Julie grinned and performed an impromptu scale on her instrument, missing the second to last note, and failing to notice.

Kate blanched. "You sound like Miley Cyrus trying to play Nirvana. Seriously, that guitar work sounded like something an eleven year old would bang out in her bedroom."

"Hey, let's all just take a chill pill," Jess ordered before Julie could go into hysterics. GirlDeMo's lead guitarist leaned against the blackboard of the classroom they commandeered to practice in. Eyeing their candidate singer skeptically, she took a chug of black coffee.

"Actually… Her vocal performance was fairly skilled. Nothing like Hayley, of course. Hayley was classical rock. A female Freddie Mercury, with Melissa Etheridge for texture. I'd say Julie here is more of a modern style singer. Definitely high energy, almost comparable to Hayley Williams."

"Hayley Williams," Irie breathed.

"And yeah Kate, her accuracy defiantly leaves much to be desired," Jess continued. She paced around the quivering Julie. With a bouncing of her eyebrows, Jess scratched her chin.

She's enjoying this, Kate groaned to herself.

"However, she can hold a rhythm. It may not be the most stable, but it holds up. We _could _work with it, if we supported the rhythm guitar a bit with base and lead. More work for us, of course."

The other three girls watched Jess attentively. After Hayley, she was the most senior member of the band. She was also the only one who'd actually been in a professional band in life.

Jess dropped down into her chair, taking another chug of coffee. She shrugged. "What the hell. It's not like anyone else at this school knows how to play guitar. We'll give you a test run, kid."

"Oh, uh thanks, I, _oh_…" Julie melted onto the floor.

The door slid open. Bridget stepped in, and stared around blankly. "Hey guys, we need to send a representative of the band. Winnie's having a meeting."

The members of GirlDeMo stared at the Julie puddle expectantly.

Winnie gazed out the window, looking off into the distance. She sniffed a spinning breeze as it blew by, and her eyes narrowed. "It's coming," she proclaimed deliberately. Her jaw set.

Mike sat forward to the edge of his seat. "Uh, Winnie? What's coming?"

She whirled around to face them. "Angel's rampage. It's almost here."

As the Battlefront members issued exclamations of dismay, Mike gulped. His imagination, unnecessarily active as usual, immediately set to creating a slideshow of images to describe "Angel's rampage," each more bloody then the last. The last was a colorful image of Angel, politely wielding a chainsaw, chasing him and his companions down the art hallway.

"But… why is she going… on a _rampage_?" Mike gasped.

Winnie leaned over her desk heavily. Her fists clenched. "Because, she's the Student Body President. And… _semester exams _are here. She's going to do her best to encourage everyone to study hard and do their best."

As the others nodded solemnly, Mike sunk his head in his hands. Again. They'd gotten him to over react _again._

The lights dimmed. The projector blinked on, sending a table of exam block schedules flashing onto the screen.

In front of the image, Fred steepled her hands on the desk, tucking her chin into her fingers. Her eyes gleamed out like a predator's in the gloom. "We shall be taking full advantage of this time to continue our endeavors to defeat Angel… And so, this semester, we shall actually take part in our exams. We shall place ourselves in all of Angel's exams… and sabotage her tests." Fred tapped her slight chin thoughtfully. "As the Student Body President, receiving zeros on all of her tests will be a shattering blow. It would reflect badly on the whole school, damaging what Angel apparently works toward, and causing her to loose support from the students and teachers."

The others nodded, gradually comprehending. Harry scratched his scalp lightly. Richie the fifth mowed through a bag of apples quietly. TK muttered something about a yellow submarine.

Jake snorted suddenly, stepping back to slouch against a wall. "I see," he slurred lazily, "A stealth mission. That kind of sneaking around isn't for someone like me. I think I'll sit this one out."

"Actually," Winnie clarified, "only some of us will be necessary to complete Mission: Total-Burnout. The Battlefront members who will be participating are: Luke, Harry, Elly, Leonard, and Mike.

"Whaaat? Why me?" Mike cried. Tests were stressful enough. Tests with Angel sounded about as enjoyable as gargling coals.

"Please, call me Chri-"

"I merely chose people who look normal. You guys look like normal enough guys. Put Emmanuel in there, and all the normal students will feel like they're about to get mugged.

Emm smiled like a cat with the canary.

"Okay? All right. Operation: Total Burn-out, start!"

Mike took in the atmosphere as the six of them entered the class room that Monday. Fearful perspiration, people last- minute cramming n the corners, yep, this was the right place. Almost at the front sat Angel, quietly studying her material. There was one empty desk in front of her.

"Right," Winnie commanded, sweeping in. She indicated a box by the blackboard near the front of the room. "The seating for this test is decided by random lottery. Try to draw the desk in front of Angel, or at least close to her, all right?"

"That doesn't even make sense…" Elly muttered, confused.

Harry went first. "Yes! I get a window seat! I-OWW." He limped away, complaining unnecessary violence.

"Hmm," Elliot frowned, scrutinizing his seat assignment. "I will be seating quite far away, it appears."

After half a minute of scrambling around, Luke finally managed to procure a slip of paper. "Oh… Looks like I'm not in front of her either! Sorry guys," he laughed, failing to hide his relief.

Mike gazed down at his slip in disappointment. Back of the class. That wouldn't help at all.

"Yes! I got seat number _one_!" Winnie cried out joyfully, throwing her seat assignment into the air. But as it flew, her thoughts caught up. "Damn it, damn it, _damn it_! Did anyone get a seat anywhere near her."

"I got the seat in front of her," Leo declared subtly. He smiled.

"Excellent! Great work, Leo," Winnie declared as they hurried to the back of the class to plot.

"Hey, I said, call me Christ-"

Winnie plunked down in a desk at the back corner, as far away from Angel's studying form as possible. "All right gang, here's the plan. Leo, you take two answer sheets when they're handed out. Then, when we hand the tests in, substitute Angel's with a blank one- wait, no. That would look suspicious… Ah! Just write down on the answer sheet what you want to do when you grow up."

Leo pushed up his glasses. "But… this is a physics test."

"Precisely…" Winnie purred. "Write about how she wants to be a professional dolphin trainer when she grows up. Angel will look ridiculous! All right Harry, when the time comes, I'm relying on you to create a distraction to cover Leo. Got it?"

"What?" Harry cried, affronted. "That's all I'm here for, a distraction?"

Winnie rolled her eyes. "You're goofy enough."

Harry pouted. "But… I'm more than a class clown…"

Winnie looked around happily as Mike patted Harry comfortingly. "All right," she asked, "That's it. Anyone got any questions?"

"Err, yes…" Leo muttered, gazing at her curiously. "What do I put on the test for Angel's name?"

Outside the window, leaves from a oak drifted past.

Elly broke the confused silence carefully. "I guess… she actually does have a real name, doesn't she?"

"Could we call her Student Body President? I mean, if she's stupid enough to put that she wants to be a dolphin trainer…" Luke proposed with uncertainty.

"No! That's ridiculous! We can't do that to her," Mike protested. "I mean, we can't be _that _mean."

Winnie bristled. "Well, if you care so much, then you go find out. Go to the office and check the class roster. Hurry!"

He started off, muttering to himself. "This whole situation is ridiculous. I can't believe they've been here for years and never even bothered to learn the name of their en-"

He came to a stop, a step away from the classroom door. Something was holding onto his coat. He turned back, and his heart leapt.

"Are you all right?" Angel asked softly, gazing up at him. "The test is about to start. Is anything wrong?'

"N-no, I…" Mike stuttered, unable to look away from her. Despite the fact that he was frightened out of his mind, he couldn't help but thinking how bad he'd feel if someone screwed up his exam, and then didn't even bother to put his correct name on the test…. "I just… don't feel that good."

Angel tilted her head, watching him sweat. "Are you really that worried?" She let go of his coat and stepped back a little bit. "It will all be all right. Please, do not be worried."

A breath involuntarily escaped him. "Uh, right. Right. Umm, thanks." He blinked. "Hey, uh, I'm Mike, Mike Carter," he continued. His name, simply by introducing himself to her, he'd remembered his full name! "Uh… What's your name, Miss Student Body President?"

"I am Miss Robinson," she replied simply.

"Yes, but what's your first name?"

For a moment, Mike almost thought he saw an emotion cross her pale face, as if she was taken back. "My first name… Is Emily. I'm Emily Robinson."

Mike made his way back to his friends. They stared as him as one might stare at a fellow who swam through a shark tank. "Her name's Emily Robinson," he announced as he reached them.

"Great. Perfect. _Good job, Mike," _Winnie muttered darkly. Her gaze was fixed on the table in front of her.

"Whew!" Luke exclaimed, looking around the room peacefully. "This is getting exciting!"

The door flew open. Their physics teacher loomed on the threshold, gazing at the startled students ominously. 'All right, kiddos… let's go on ahead… and get started with the _test."_


	28. Chapter 28

With sighs of resignation, they went to it. Mike filled in his name, and then started plowing through, he didn't have anything else to do. Odd… he wondered. This is easy! I know all of these, it's like I already-

"Don't take any part of school seriously," he suddenly remembered Winnie speaking, her warning clear in his mind's ear. "If you do, you'll become obliterated…"

Yikes! That was close, he thought, hurrying back to replace all of his careful answers with doodles of aliens abducting giant ice-cream cones.

The exam was over way too soon, as they are ought to do. "Times up," the teacher called pompously, over the groans of frustration and the sighs of relief of the students. "Pass them up."

There was a clatter. Harry's seat was pushed back as he stood, eyes crazed, hand shaking as he indicated. "Everyone look! Bob Marley, Michael Jackson, and Freddie Mercury are all outside! They have grandiose-super-huge angel wings, and they're playing a concert! My heroes are back, it's, it's, it's amazing!" Harry cried, pointing and jumping. He looked around as he finished.

No one had moved. A girl in the third row smacked on her gum. Harry groaned, and sank back into his seat, defeated.

Harry, you moron, Mike cursed. No one in this generation knows who those people are.

"Incompetent fools," Winnie muttered. Without looking up from her desk, she reached into her pocket, and withdrew a curious looking switch. She flicked it.

FOOOSH! Harry didn't have time to react as his seat suddenly began to smoke, and abruptly hurtled skywards, rockets crackling happily. Everyone stared at him in shock as he smashed into the ceiling, and hurtled back to the floor, crashing down with a cry of shock.

Subtle as ever, Leo fiddled with the tests.

"ALL RIGHT BUSTER, YOU'RE GOING DOWN!" Harry growled, storming towards Winnie as soon as the teacher had left.

She cringed away from him, grinning mischievously as she warded off his flaying arms. "Hey, calm down! I helped you fulfill your mission, you should be grateful-"

"GRATEFUL?! I'M AS BRUISED AS A PEACH! I'M SURPRISED YOU HAD THE NERVE TO INSTALL ROCKETS UNDER MY SEAT, YOU-"

Silence fell like a curtain as Angel abruptly stood up, her seat scraping across the tile floor.

Yikes, Mike freaked. He crossed the room in a few steps. "It's all right, please don't worry yourself, Miss Robinson," he explained, waving his hands frantically in front of her. "There's nothing wrong, it's just, we just, uh… We just finished calculated Winifred's score, and realized she's gotten a 3%. Everything's fine, no reason for you to come over, to trouble yourself!"

She frowned at him, seemingly genuinely concerned. "Oh. I see."

"So, how went the switch," Winnie was asking Leo as Mike returned from his damage control mission. Leo straightened up confidently. "It went _without a hitch_. Now, again, please call me-"

"Excellent. All right, Elly, you're on deck."

Elliot immediately lost half of his color. He gulped, and loosened his collar. "M-me? But, I'm not good with people! I'll have to think up some way to hold their attention…" he ran two heavy hands through his short black hair frantically. "Yikes, yikes, yikes… I'm not used to this level of interpersonal involvement! And, I thought Harry was the distraction."

"Yeah, but everyone will get used to it if it's just Harry every time. We need to mix things up."

She smacked him on the shoulder. "Don't fret it, man."

"Yeah, just do what I did and go flying, man," Harry proposed helpfully.

"-but what I don't get is what I'm supposed to put for the answers this time around," Leo complained.

Elly's eyes bugged out. "Are you kidding? Why are you worrying about it, you have the easy job!"

Leo bristled. "Hey, I won't be talked down to like that! I'll have you know that I'm taking a tremendous risk in this mission, performing covert operations that require my vast intelligence, mere feet from Angel-"

"Then switch with me."

"No way!"

Winnie glanced at Mike. He smiled at her, and they both rolled their eyes. "What's the next exam, anyway?" she asked.

Leo tried to neaten his disheveled hair. "History. The next exam is world history."

"Oh, then that's easy! Just… just pretend that the world has been taken over by a strange alien race. Then adjust all of the answers to meet that."

The classroom door slid open again. The slim history teacher stepped through, carefully shutting the door behind her. "Hey guys," she smiled, making a game attempt to ease the nervous grimaces around her. "Quite worrying yourselves, this'll be over soon enough. "

The crusades, huh? Mike wondered, reading the questions. Killing in the name of God… Just what kind of world had he forgotten?

"All right everyone, tests over," the teacher called, checking her watch. She walked to the front of the room. "Hand 'em in."

The class's eyes moved to watch as Elly stood up, shaking.

The teacher frowned at the student, unsure. "Yes? Do you need anything?"

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but there's something I have to confess…" Elliot spoke, unable to lift his chin. "You see, it's just…" RIIIIP. "_My true body appears scrawny when fully clothed!"_

Elly's torn uniform drifted to the floor, no longer to able to conceal the true majesty that was beneath. Muscles glistened, as if a Greek statue had taken on warmth and flesh. Beautifully crafted, divinely inspired pecs and abdominal features gleamed in the light, creating sheen of a thousand sparkles. Mike's mouth fell open.

But the teacher only sighed. "Yes. Yes, I can see that. Now, could you sit down, please?" Why do things like this always happen on my shift, she wondered.

Elly nodded miserably, crestfallen. "Yes ma'am…" he consented, sitting heavily.

Click.

All Elliot had time to do was blink in horror as he zoomed upward, the whole class wincing in sympathy as he cracked into the ceiling. With a groan, he fell back into his desk, perfect body now speckled with pieces of ceiling.

As Angel looked on at the events without expression, Leo quietly shuffled two sheets of paper.

"I can't believe you had the nerve to do that," Fred groaned, covering her face, unable to look at the boys around her.

"I thought it would work," Elliot replied sadly. "It was unexpected… I don't seem the type… I've been training in secret, you see."

Harry shook his head in wonderment. "You go, man."

"Hmmpth… well, looks like you're next, Luke.'

Luke tried to smile, but failed miserably. "O-oh… That's, that's great…"

Winnie grinned at the wretched boy, that twisted, knowing grin that could mean a myriad of things, none of them good. "Say, Luke, you sit diagonally behind Angel, right?"

Luke perked right up. "Hey… You're right! Does that mean I'm off the hook?"

"Why, sure… As soon as you ask Angel out on date."

"Oh, I-… WHAT?"

Winnie smirked. "_Oh Miss Robinson, I've always loved you with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Oh please, won't you give this bleeding heart peace, and go out with me this Saturday? _Say it just like that, and I promise you won't go flying."

Luke's brown eyes had gone the size of dinner plates.

Harry sniffed, crossing his arms. "Huh. That's all? You sure got it easy."

Luke whirled to face him frantically. "_Not true!_ You got off with only physical damage, but this is sure to be way emotionally scarring! I've never asked a girl out before!" He twiddled his fingers frantically. "_Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!"_ he sputtered, his face beat-red. "Oh, I'm so nervous! I just know that she'll turn me down flat!"

Harry snorted at him. "You wimp! This is good training for you!"

"Training? I don't need training! Unlike you, I take all of my crushes very seriously, all right?'

"Hey! You make it sound like _all my relationships are dirty lies_! I'll have you know-"

Winnie grit her teeth. "Shut up, both of you!"

As the yell echoed across the testing room, startled student heads turned to the disturbance. Angel's brilliant hair sent light spinning across the room as she stood, frowning slightly.

Mike's feet skidded across the floor as he dashed to intercede. "Hey, it's okay; everything's perfectly all right, no need to worry! We we're just… uh… Winifred was just upset about a dream she had, you see."

Angel gazed up at him. "Oh… I see."

"Yeah… Harry was in it, in a tuxedo. He told her, '_Be prepared, Freddy, my dear. The me of tomorrow won't be the same as the me of yesterday, or today. Be ready.' _She was very traumatized."

Angel blinked. She reached up and scratched her head. "So… there are two Harry's?"

"Uh… Sure?" Yeah, let's just go with that.

"There might even be three of him," she continued, looking very concerned with the concept.

"Um… I guess?"

She sat down. "Oh dear."

"_I do not dream about Harry!_" Winnie protested vehemently, strangling Mike with her gaze as he returned.

"There's at least three of me? Just what did you tell her?" Harry protested with her.

Mike ran a hand through his hair. "Hey now, I was covering your backs, all right?"

"But, Fred, what should I put for the answers on the next exam?" Leo interrupted.

"Well… It's Spanish, right? So just put all of your answers in English. OK, everyone ready? Let's go!"

"All right, hand up your answer sheets," their administrator spoke up an hour later.

Luke leapt up, sending his chair skittering. He winced at the sound. His hands trembled as he hastily stuffed them into his pockets, while his eyes had achieved puppy-like qualities. As the class regarded him, he made several attempts to speak, swallowing.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Miss Robinson!" Luke gasped, eyes widening as he heard the words leave his lips.

Angel turned around, and regarded him. "Yes?"

"I've…I've…always loved you… with, with the burning passion… of a thousand suns. I'm sorry to ask you here and now," Luke clenched his eyes tight as he spoke, his fists clenched. "Oh please, won't you…go out with me this Saturday?"

"If that is the case, then please ask me at a more appropriate time."

She nodded at him, and then sat down again.

Luke's eyes had fluttered open, and he sunk down into his chair, face going the shade of one drowning. "Oh… Okay."

"Ha, poor chump," Mike heard Harry snigger from behind him. "He's going blasting for- AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH-KA-THUNK"

As the class gazed on in wonderment, Harry swung despondently from his position, head firmly wedged into the hole in the celling his ascent had created. Subtly, Leo fiddled with the sheet of paper on his desk.

"JUST WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, WOMAN! I ALMOST DIED!" Harry was spitting as he finally made his way back to the ground, after the teacher had left again. "I already went! And Elly, come on, put a shirt on already."

Elly frowned at him, pushing up his glasses. His resplendent pecs blinked back at Harry cheerfully.

"Yes, but Luke had already suffered far too much emotional damage," Winnie replied, indicated their gently sobbing comrade. Mike was offering him tissues sympathetically. "Besides, I've noticed that sending you airborne really has an effect on the class. You really make a spectacle of yourself."

All Harry could do was grapple the air in front of him, specks of plaster falling out of his hair, as Fred smiled at him serenely.


	29. Chapter 29

Mike tucked into his lunch eagerly, exceedingly relieved to have a break. Exams, even when you purposefully fail them, are pretty exhausting.

A breeze zipped through their group, the classroom roof was exquisitely beautiful today, the splendid sunshine and casual breezed only marred by Harry and Fred's extended discussion.

"How much longer must I endure this?" Harry moaned. "I feel like I've been in a professional wrestling match. Can't we switch out with other members?"

Winnie munched her p, b, and j thoughtfully. "But Richie and TK both look to heavy to me… and you're just really aerodynamic."

"_Don't base my fate off of my body type_! And, and, it may work now, but like you said, people will get used to it soon enough. 'Oh, it's just Harry blasting into the ceiling again, what a silly boy.' I thought you were my friend!"

"That's why I'm mixing up the rocket paths. Didn't you notice how you spun like a drill on the last flight? I'm one of your oldest friends," Fred confirmed. "Why do you think you're doing this?"

Luke was still silent, tears cutting paths down his red face. But he was eating, gulping down potato chips as if he was starving. They viewed that as a good sign.

The shirtless Elliot regarded Harry, considering his dilemma. "Well… I think my distraction would definitely work if I took off my pants as well."

"They're starting to spread," Winnie hissed with snakelike satisfaction. Mission Total-burnout has ended successfully, with each and every test being replaced with one full of ridiculous, insincere answers. Now they were back at HQ.

"Rumors," she continued, "that the Student Body President bombed each and every one of her tests. And, not only that, but she didn't take any of them seriously, turning in loads of joke answers, mocking our school."

"It's true," Julie whistled. "Gloria was really excited about it."

Richie the fifth raised his eyebrows. Jake swore, leaning on his halberd in confusion. "Just what did you guys get up to?"

"Well, at the end of it, I went rocketing up, flew around the room, and then hurtled out the window," Harry described graphically, illustrating his fall with a flailing hand.

"The teachers here are just like the ones in real life," Winnie continued eagerly. "How do you think they are going to react to the Student Body President making a mockery of the testing system? She's the one who sets an example for the rest!"

Mike just sat on the couch, looking at his feet.

The next day on the way to the cafeteria, Mike was quieter than usual. And so, when all the others skittered onward, he noticed what was occurring down the side hallway. Silently, he went to investigate.

Angel was surrounded by her coworkers, the other members of student council. They seemed to be arguing fervently about something, outside their meeting room.

"-simply disgraceful," Mike caught the tallest one, Albert, snarling. "It's a blemish on our whole school."

One of the boys, unique in the fact that he possessed a GirlDeMo bracelet around his wrist, was pawing Angel anxiously. "Come on, President Robinson, you have to have some explanation! I know you, there has to be some mistake."

Angel only gazed at him. "I do not know, Kyle. They are what they are. I must accept my performance."

A girl spoke next, smacking on her gum busily. She didn't seem terribly concerned with any of the proceedings. "Like, I don't get how you failed everything, Prez. I mean, you studied like every day. You must be really stupid."

Angel blinked. "I must accept what is. I cannot take back my mistakes, Tiffany. I must own up to my errors."

Even though she was as cryptic as usual, Mike, watching from afar, was sure he felt something from her. She was miserable, he knew it. She looked hurt.

"It's all pointless speculation now," Albert was sneering. "We all know what will come- Hey, just what do you think you're doing, student?"

Mike brushed past him without even acknowledging the student body vice president. "Hey, Angel- I mean, Student Body President, I mean…" he stopped in front of her, stuttering. She crossed her pale, petite hands in front of her.

"Miss Robinson… Are you okay? Is anything wrong?"

You jerk, he thought, flinching. You know exactly what's wrong with her, you caused it.

But she only smiled. Reaching out, she patted him, only able to reach his arm. "I'm fine, Mr. Carter. Nothing is the matter. Now, I believe the lunch period is finishing, you should go get something to eat."

The day after, an assembly was called.

Mike and the other Battlefront member watched from the stands at the top of the gym, separated from the rest of the school milling about below. On stage, the principal stood, Angel and a few of the other student council members beside him. Mike couldn't help but wonder where the principal held his digs, since his entrance to his office was denied by the appearance of a massive hammer anytime someone touched the doorknob without the password.

"What the hell could this be about," Emmanuel asked in a low voice, leaning against a wall. Fred only smiled.

"Eh-he-herm…" the principal coughed, his fluffy white beard ruffling as he cleared his throat. "Eh-hem. Students of Elihu the Young Acadamy, we have called you here to address a change in your governing staff. Effective immediately, Emily Robinson has decided to temporarily step down from her post as Student Body President. Our current vice present, Albert Lecher, will be stepping up to fill the void, as acting Student Body President."

Albert smiled nobly as he stepped to stand beside the principal. 'It will be an honor, to take on the prestigious post and weighty burden, of leading you all. I shall do so with intelligence and integrity."

"Thank you, Mr. Lecher," the principal replied. "Now, if we could all have a round of applause for Miss Robinson, for all that she had done for this school."

The applause, when it came, was lukewarm and splotchy. It's amazing, Mike thought with a sickening feeling. It's amazing how much damage one rumor can do to how people see you.

There was one bout of strong applause, however. High above the students was the loudest clapping.

Winnie grinned as she clapped. "So, God's angel has lost her position. She didn't resign, make no mistake. Angel was fired. Let's see if she can stop us, when according to the very rules she upholds, she is no better than us. We complete Operation: Tornado, tonight."


	30. Chapter 30

The walls of the cafeteria trembled in anticipation as a lone melody began, a single guitar playing a beautifully curved pattern. As the lights came onto the stage, Julie continued to her part, smiling out at the audience that burst into cheers as GirlDeMo came into focus.

"Are you sure we can do this?" Julie had asked before the operation began, perusing the lead sheet for their intro song, One Thousand Enemies, anxiously.

From beside her, jess had tuned her guitar efficiently, with a calm smile of comfort. "That's the last melody Hayley wrote, before she left. Since you wrote the words for it, it's part yours now."

"But, everyone loved Hayley…. What if they don't accept me?"

"Either they will, or they won't," Jess had replied, as she and the others got ready to depart to the stage. "It's up to you. Just show them the same passion, and love that you showed us… and I think the fans will accept you. But don't worry, GirlDeMo's been around a while, and we're more than our singer. Whatever happens, tonight, we're going to rock."

On stage, Julie took a deep breath. This is my dream, she though for the hundredth time that night. I'm living my dream, and that's enough for me, regardless of what the audience thinks. Then, drifting into the rhythms all around her, the words flew out.

"_Your grumpy moods, are my shady trees. I'll sit with you, watch churning seas._"

From their position above, Fred and Bridget eyed each other. The students were well laden with currency. Everything was ready.

Outside on the roof, Elliot and Luke waited, the sites of their rifles perusing the entrances to the cafeteria area.

By the front, Richie the fifth, TK, and Emmanuel guarded the pathway, enough machinery between them to arm a third world country.

At the entrance from the fields, Mike, Harry, and Hannah stood sentinel, looking out over the empty soccer and baseball fields with scanning glances.

"Who are we guarding against, anyway?" Mike asked, fiddling with the safety of his pistol. He still didn't quite like the feel of the thing, the press of the cold metal against his skin.

"We will stand against anyone who gets in our way," Hannah replied from above him. She crouched, perched on the pinnacle of the fence post beside him. Her mouth curved into a frown as she scanned the field around her, her night eyes gleaming out from atop her scarf.

Mike gazed up at her. "But… who's going to go against us. If Angel isn't the Student Body President anymore, then will she still enforce the rules?"

Harry sat down, yawning. "Why not? Why the heck would something that simple matter to one of God's angels? I mean, it's _Student Body President, _for heaven's sake. They don't really do anything, most of the time. It shouldn't change anything."

He hesitated. "Well… actually, there is still the old vice president, the new acting president. He might show up to try and stop us."

"But… he's a NPC! We can't shoot him!"

"Oh… yeah, that's true."

"_I don't mind the cold! I don't mind the burns! I promise you, I-will-ne-ver-fold_"

There was a flurry of flying cloth. Hannah sprung back up as she reached the ground, daggers gleaming. "She's here. Angel."

Mike put a hand to his forehead and gazed out. Yes, she was here, making her way to the cafeteria with that deliberate pace. He frowned. But there was something different, something was off.

Harry lifted up his weapon, and began to aim. "We should attack now, before she activates distortion-"

"No, wait," Mike interrupted. Hannah and Harry glanced at him, curious. Angel was now only yards away. However, Mike didn't think she'd seen them, as her head was slumped, face on the ground.

"Something's wrong, different. Angel doesn't look like she's here to fight. Here, get down!"

Before Harry could protest, Mike had grappled him around the waist, and the two of them had tumbled into the bushes on the side of the path. Hannah looked after her companions, torn, and then hopped in after them.

"Ow- hey, these are roses! Mike, are you crazy, we can't just let Angel pass-"

"Shh," Mike hissed, interrupting Harry. They watched, breathless, as Angel passed by their position. But she was silent; no shimmering blade appeared at her wrist. She just continued to walk on, gaze still on the cold stone ground. As she passed, Mike signaled up at the men on the roof, and so Angel entered the glowing cafeteria.

On the make-shift stage, Girls Dead Monster moved in tune with their own beat. The rhythm they generated spun and weaved all around the room, encompassing all in its warm coil.

Julie's eyes were aglow in wonder. The audience roared, and she could feel the energy, driving her, playing through her.

"_You may grumble, you may sigh. But I'll take on your thousand enemies… with joy in my eye._"

Winnie's eyes played out over the stands, taking it all in. Everything seemed to be going precisely according to-"

She almost dropped her binoculars as she noticed the familiar, short, fair-haired girl working her way through the crowd.

"_GUYS! What are you doing, sleeping? She's in the cafeteria!" _Winnie howled into her intercom. Across the cafeteria, Bridget flinched as the howl resounded millimeters from her ear. "_You've ruined the operation! I'm going to go up there and, and…"_ Winnie trailed off gradually. She put the radio down.

Angel hadn't activated any of her guardskills. She hadn't even activated distortion, otherwise the bag of chips some excited concert goer had chucked wouldn't have smacked her in the head. Winnie watched Angel walk right past one of the fan teams, her solders hiding behind each other in fright.

What… what was going on? Angel wasn't making any effort to stop the concert, or their operation! Winnie watched her enemy reach the coupon table. The coupon table was where the cafeteria ladies put out coupons for free food, the kind no one ordered and they needed to get rid of. Winnie knew from surveillance that Angel always spent all of her lunch money on catering parties for various clubs, and had always wondered how she ate. Until now, she had just supposed that angels didn't eat, and survived off of rainbows and goodwill, or something like that. She peered through her binoculars to see Angel choose a coupon.

_Chupacabra Curry_? That was the most horrible, tongue-burning thing on the menu! What, had she gone insane?

Winnie leaned back, and bit her lip. Trying to hold her balance in the swaying eddies of rhythm all around her, she tried to think. Her radio buzzed.

"Fred," came Bridget's cool tone. "The concert's excitement has reached its peak. It's time."

Winnie clenched her fists. "All right, fine. _Start!"_

In rumbling unison, the giant fans shook to life. As the crowd roared, and the instruments danced, rising winds started to sweep through the room. Winnie watched a loose tempest of discarded wrappers, papers, and lunch money start to sweep into the air, glittering in the flashing concert lights.

And, she saw Angel's coupon ripped from her hands. She saw Angel reach up after it, only to see the slip of paper fly away from her, spinning up to the ceiling. Angel lowered her arm, and just like that, was lost in the jostling crowd.

Outside, the Battlefront was cheering in excitement as a snow of lunch money fell over them. Mike was the last to climb his way out of the prickled roses. He reached up to catch the last flurry of debris, and looked down at his catch, before they hurriedly fled from the scene.

"_Coupon to be redeemed before Friday, November 1, for one order of Chupacabra Curry."_

A half hour later, they were laughing in the kitchen, eagerly retelling their easy success over Angel.

"What a cinch!" Mike heard someone say as he stood in line for food. "If Angel's that wimpy every time, we'll have the run of this place!"

Harry heaved a massive exclamation as Mike retrieved his order, gasping in shock from his seat beside him. "Mike, are you insane? What convinced you to buy _that_? It's known that the science teachers use that curry to purify test-tubes, it's so hot!"

Mike looked down at the saucy rice-and chicken mesh. "Hey, it's what I ended up with, all right? Someone was using a coupon, apparently." He grimaced. Well, he was hungry… With Harry's incredulous eyes on him, he brought a shaking forkful to his mouth, and swallowed.

His eyes scrunched tight as the flavor hit him, he chewed frantically, and swallowed furiously. He sat still for several moments, panting. Then he paused. "Hey, wait a second… This is actually really good. Spicy, yeah, but… whoa, this actually tastes amazing."

Harry gazed at him, in awe. "Really? Wait, let me try some!" He bravely flicked a serving into his mouth.

"YEAAAAAHHHH!" Harry gagged, tears running down his face, then chewed, swallowed. "Oh my sweat mercy, that burned… but… but, the aftertaste, it's so satisfying…"

"That was Angel's coupon," Winnie spoke suddenly, not touching her meal. "I saw her pick it up."

Mike's laughter at Harry's antics quickly subsided. "Angel's ticket? You mean, she was going to eat this?" Mike put his fork down. She had wanted to treat herself to some curry… and he'd taken that from her, taken that small bit of happiness.

Winnie put down her fork, as she stared straight ahead.

What was going on? Why had the loss of her position resulted in a change in Angel's actions? Surely, a divine being wouldn't care about something like a school position. It appeared there was much she still had to learn about her enemy.

Across from her, Mike had started to talk again. "Hey, I was wondering, after what happened tonight… Do you think, Angel might want to be with us on the Battlefront?"

At least three people spit out their drink.

"Have you gone batty?" Emmanuel cried from the table behind him. "Do you know how many of us she's killed over the years? Well, we've got her a few times as well and everyone's fine… BUT STILL! She might have been harmless today, Mike, but believe me, your enemies never change. We can't trust that demon!"

Emmanuel's speech got a rousing cheer. Mike sunk into his chair. Well, that had been a stupid suggestion, apparently.

He knew angels were different from humans, but still. He thought of Angel, going to eat her Chupacabra Curry, all by herself. She didn't really have any friends at the school, she was alone. The image of her, all by herself, stuck in his mind, he couldn't shake it out, he-"

The cafeteria lights plunged off with a click. Dark uniforms flooded through the kitchen doors as Battlefront members tried to stand, trapped at their seats.

Mike struggled to his feet, and felt a restraining hand grab his arm. Glancing to his side in shock, he saw the firm face of an NPC glare at him.

Winnie whirled around, face afire as she saw her team surrounded. "What the hell is going on? You idiots can't just-'

"On the contrary, Winifred Washington," a snide voice called from the back of the room.

Albert strode into the center of the area, a satisfied smirk adorning his pale face, and he crossed his well-dressed arms to survey his captives. "As the new Student Body President, I can do whatever I see fit. Your stunt in the cafeteria will not go unpunished."

The politician's black eyes swept over them. "You will find this administration a tad… different, then the one you are used to. Everything you know about the Elihu the Young Acadamy, all is about to change."

**A/N End of Mission Five. The support is pretty amazing, guys, and pretty unexpected. Thanks for the input. I have an idea for the next chapter, a way to make it a bit different from the first time around. Hope you like it. **


	31. Chapter 31

"It's seven o'clock, Kyle. Their time's up."

Kyle sighed. He rubbed his hands on his student council uniform as he moved to open the door. "You may leave now," he called out to the room's occupants, almost apologetically. "Make sure to reflect on your actions in the future, so you don't return to the introspection room."

The Battlefront filed out of the bland classroom where they had been held under guard and forced to spend the night.

"My neck's killing me," Emmanuel groaned, cracking the offending body part. "Sleeping on a cement floor is the pits."

"Like, I thought that things would get easier if we didn't have to worry about Angel?" Julie complained.

Winnie was silent as the group trooped stiffly back to HQ, occasionally casting back bitter glances at their captors.

"Well, I don't know about you wimps, but the next time I see that "substitute vice-president" pansy, I'll chop him into a thousand different strips of meat-" Jake began.

"You can't," Elly interrupted. "He's a normal student, an NPC. We can't just attack them."

"Still, he's a creep," Harry interrupted testily. "What kind of normal non-adult sends his peers to _reflect on their actions_? He's ridiculous!"

"Probably got dropped on his head as a child," Julie proposed intelligently.

Harry immediately turned to give her a noogie. "No one asked for your input, Miss-oh-I'm-so-cold-i-need-the-only-blanket!"

"I have a fragile constitution!"

"And my toes play Sinatra at night clubs."

Hannah sighed, from a few steps behind them. "This is so stupid…"

They reached HQ without incident. Winnie gave the password, and they tumbled in with groans of relief.

Morning birdsong blasted in through the cheerful windows. Emm blinked malevolently at them, rubbing his drowsy face unhappily. "Stupid animals," he muttered, pulling the blinds closed.

"So, Fred, what do we do?" Richie the fifth asked, twiddling his thumbs uncertainly. "I mean, if we can't fight against them…"

Everyone watched the young girl expectantly. Meeting their gaze, Winnie put her thumb to her mouth, and then spoke. "How 'bout we just test the waters. Everyone, go to classes, like you would if you were a normal student. But beside that, just do whatever you want during class. Let's see just what this Albert Lecher wants."

As Mike turned to follow the rest out the door, he heard someone call him back.

"Hey, Mike," Winnie called, striding up to him. She held a radio in her outstretched hand. Mike knew that their small stock of radios had been obtained through theft. And a very costly theft it had been. "Take this."

"But… but aren't those really valuable? Why would you give one to me?"

Winnie stared back at him, biting her lip. "Just take it," she snapped. "Now, go see what Lecher's up to."

Luke looked around, sweating in anticipation. No one in class was looking at him. Perfect. With trembling, unsure hands, he reached down into his desk, and withdrew… a potato chip.

I can do this, I can do this…. With one quick motion, he brought it to his mouth, and crunched down.

I can't believe it, he thrilled to himself, chewing joyously. I'm eating in class, actually eating in class! I'm such a delinquent, ooo, I'm so bold!

Two rows to his left, four desks had been brought together. The NPC closest glanced over nervously as another yell of excitement reached his ears.

"And I'll raise you 2 dollars and can of soda," Emmanuel declared dramatically, tossing the offering down onto the table. Hehe, he chuckled to himself as the others followed suit, these chumps, I grew up playing 5-card draw, I know how to hustle anybody. "All right, show 'em!"

Jess threw down her hand simply. "Royal flush. Looks like I win again."

"WHAAAT?"

"Won't get fooled again…" TK muttered sadly.

Richie the fifth put his head in his hands. "I can't believe I'm losing to a woman."

Jess smiled at the group mischievously as she dealt out another round. "Hey, that's how it rolls, big boys. You can back out if you can't take the heat."

At the front of the class, the teacher paused, his chalk inches from the blackbird. "Um… excuse me, but could you keep it down?"

"What-oh, uh, sure," Emmanuel called, trying not to curse as he saw his hand. "We're on it,

Teach."

By the windows, there was a blur of movement. A bear-chested Elliot worked, performing pushups with wicked speed.

A hand flew up. "Teacher," Julie called in a tone that could have irritated a brick wall. "Gotta use the bathroom!"

"Go ahead…"

Arrogantly sprawled across several desks right in the front of the room, Jake napped. His halberd was tucked in at his side. The NPC whose desk was being used as a pillow tried to reach for her pencil, trapped by his ear. Jake growled softly, and she hurriedly withdrew her hand.

At the back of the room, Mike looked around happily. It sure was nice being in a class with all of the Battlefront members. "Are we supposed to be doing anything?"

Harry yawned from beside him. "Nope. We can just talk. Hey- Hannah, just what in the world are you doing?"

Behind them, a curious structure had formed. Hannah crouched on top of a stack of desks, each one placed corner to corner with each other, the leg of one desk somehow balancing the corner of the next desk. The whole contraption spun gently, their resident ninja with it. As she turned to face them, Hannah winked at Mike. "I'm simply taking this opportunity to improve my concentration."

Julie flounced back into the room, and plopped into her desk. She smiled, and the hand flew up again. "Teeeeeeach, gotta go pee!"

The teacher's chalk snapped. "Please… go."

Mike watched her depart. "What is Julie doing?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "She's being that one girl who uses the bathroom every five minutes. Ugh, she drives me crazy, she…"

His voice trailed off as Julie opened the classroom door. Albert Lecher glared in at them, flanked by two burly council members.

Julie blinked up at them, her mouth forming a perfect O. "Ooh... GOTTA GO PEE!" she declared, barreling through them.

"Aw, snap!" Emm exclaimed. They frantically scooped up their game, dashed across the classroom, and dove out the window.

"I'll be back, dude," TK declared as he dove out.

There was the sound of terrified rustling as Luke attempted to stuff an entire bag of chips into his pocket.

Mike looked around as Mr. Lecher stormed past him. The tower of desks was gone. Hannah had simply vanished.

The dark-clad student stopped at the front of the class, glaring down. Jake hadn't moved from where he lay.

"Disgraceful," Albert declared, sniffing. "Get this hooligan off to the introspection room, at once." But the moment the students laid their hands on Jake, there was a blur.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME, WIMPS!" he howled, flying up and lashing out blindly with his halberd. "Just what do I need to introspect on, huh?"

The girl whose desk he'd been using whimpered as a sharp object quivered inches away from her head. Being an NPC, Mike didn't know what she actually saw, but he guessed it wasn't a ruler.

"Sleeping in class, and menacing another student with a bladed weapon? I'm frankly surprised you have to ask. You stupidity is impressive," Albert sneered.

Mike and Harry stood up.

"STUPID, AM I? WE'LL SEE WHO'S STUPID WITH NO HEAD-"Jake was interrupted when Mike and Harry caught him in their arms. They bodily drug him out of the class, before sprinting away down the hall.

Albert watched them go, frowning. "Tisk tisk. It's obvious these delinquents won't bend." He tapped his side, and then uttered a barely audible phrase.

"It seems steps will have to be taken."


	32. Chapter 32

Hannah strode along the path, stepping from shadow to shadow. Her cloak rippled in the gusts of the day.

Simply ridiculous, she thought to herself testily. Putting their offensive plans on hold, simply because their enemy was holding back. Now was the time to strike, when Angel was the weakest. They could defeat her, and force her to tell them how to get to God. I could finally, finally, tell him that-

"Hannah!" a raucously cheerful voice sounded at her ear. She jumped a neat three feet in the air.

"I'm so glad to see you, I-" Luke continued, chattering, then trailing off. He stared at the knife that had whistled to his forehead. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you."

She withdrew her weapon reluctantly. "Habit. You surprised me." Her face darkened. "Shameful… I allowed myself to become distracted, simply pathetic."

"Pathetic? What are you talking about?" Luke asked, skipping over to walk in step with her as she strode along. A ring of potato chip crumbs still glistened on his ruddy cheeks."You're the most amazing person I know! I mean, you can do anything, fight Angel, play baseball, climb into HQ using the drainpipe and piece of string…"

She stopped suddenly. "What do you want? Go away." She had been intending to ride out this mission in her gym shed, where she could train in solitude. This moron was obstructing her path.

Luke's eyes widened at the rebuke, but he didn't give up. "Sorry! Sorry… I just wanted to see, if, you wanted to come and teepee the student council room with the rest of us. I mean, you're always off in that shed, I thought… maybe you might be lonely. Maybe you would hang with the rest of us, for a bit?"

So annoying, she growled to herself. There must be some way to rid herself of this pest. "How about this…" she spoke, adopting a sickeningly cheerful tone that dripped with menace. "You can come with me to the gym room… And, 'assist' me in my training…"

The threat flew over Luke's head by at least five miles. "Sure!" he agreed happily. "I'd love to help. Any way that I can be of use. Come, let's go!"

Winnie stole along, leaping from roof to roof. As she went, she kept an eye out on the ground below.

I bet everyone else is relaxing right about now, she thought to herself. When something weird turns up in this wacko world, it's _always _me that has to figure out what we do.

Okay, that's enough complaining, she chided herself.. They trust me to take care of things. I have a responsibility, she thought to herself. She glanced down.

Kyle, the student council higher-up she'd been tailing, had stopped outside the gym, and waved. He's seen someone. Winnie crouched.

Another figure clad in the dark male uniform of the student council appeared. Winnie's heart began to beat faster. It was Lecher.

She saw him stop in front of his subordinate. He seemed agitated; a twisted frown split his face. They were talking, but she couldn't make out the words. That weird cap Albert liked to wear blocked most of his face. Maybe he-

Winnie couldn't resist gasping as the first blow struck. With no warning, Lecher viciously attack his underling, striking him first in the face, then the chest. As Kyle fell, Albert began to kick him, the impacts sending the boy onto his stomach. But Kyle didn't fight back. He didn't cry out, he barely reacted.

Winnie watched the scene in terrible fascination. Albert continued on his work, no emotion but strangled fury on his pale face. Winnie backed away from the roof's edge. Then, she stood up, and began to run.

Mike trundled back to class after a decent interval had passed; he'd left his wallet by his seat. He knew the NPC's were supposed to represent normal students, and therefor wasn't entirely sure he'd see it again. He poked his head through the door, and then quickly withdrew it.

His breath started to come in puffs. Angel was still in there, all alone. She was just studying in the light from the window.

Mike glanced back through the door. She didn't look particularly threatening, just sitting there, copying lists of vocabulary words. And lo and behold, he could see his wallet, behind her chair. Cautiously, he slipped in, and sat down in the chair behind her. He was reaching down to pick it up when she spoke.

"Several students made an attempt to pocket that," she told him quietly. "I asked them not to." She paused. "I know I am no longer the Student Body President… and should therefor stay out of the business of others… I hope I wasn't being assuming."

Mike gazed at her. Looking over her shoulder, he realized that she had broken off from her copying, right in the middle of "antidisestablishmentarianism," and had created a small doodle of a flower over the word. Boy, he knew that feeling.

Mike suddenly felt something tumble in his gut, as a thought occurred to him. He pulled at the neck of his collar, and swallowed.

"Hey, do you feel hungry?" he asked.

She paused momentarily, and then continued in her work. "Not really. And besides, it is a strange time to have a meal."

"You know…" he said. "The school cafeteria has this infamous curry… Everyone says it's too hot to eat."

His fingers played with the corner of the desk, as he continued to look away. What on earth am I doing, he cursed at himself. Do I _want _to kill myself? It's just… If I took the meal from her… it only makes sense to give it back. "But… I tried it, and actually… I thought it was really good." He glanced at her quickly, and then looked away. "And, uh, well… I was, uh, wondering… if you might want to go try some, in the cafeteria? I'll treat you."

Angel stopped writing. She abruptly stood up and started to walk. Mike was sure he'd grievously offended her by, as a mere mortal, failing to give her respect as a higher being.

But she stopped at his desk, and looked at him, her hazel eyes finding his. "I would like that, Mr. Carter," she replied stiffly. If Mike hadn't known better, he would have thought she was feeling unsure. "Thank you."


	33. Chapter 33

Taking a deep breath, Mike brought the steaming forkful of Chupacabra curry to his mouth. "Meep!" he gasped, tongue jumping in shock, as his ears went boiler red. "…Yow!" he exclaimed, taking a massive draught from a glass of water. "You, you know, most people eat this with a pile of rice," he pointed out, glancing at the figure across the table from him quickly.

"They do?" she replied quietly, gazing down at her plate. "But… It doesn't seem spicy to me."

A smile grew over Mike's face as he gazed at her. "Oh, I get it. You don't like Chupa Curry because it's spicy… you just like the taste!"

She appraised the dish in front of her. "Oh…"

"Is something wrong?'

She raised a forkful. "So… I like spicy food? I like Chupa Curry?" With a gentle motion, she inserted the fork into mouth.

That made Mike laugh. "Well, don't ask me. That's not something I can tell you."

Then Mike saw something that to him, felt extraordinary. Angel stared at her forkful of curry, then looked over at him, and then… she smiled, a simple, uncomplicated action.

Mike continued to laugh, and was about to say something else when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder.

"Miss Robinson," came the chilly voice of Albert from behind him. "You know eating between classes isn't allowed. I'm disappointed in you. How dare you flout the name of our Elihu the Young Academy?"

Angel blinked, and looked down at the table. "That's… that's right. I… I forgot."

Mike's face, already pink from the spice, went full-violet. "What? What are you jerks talking about, we're just sitting here, eating! Don't get between her and her curry!"

"I forgot the rules…" Angel repeated, as if she couldn't believe what she was saying.

Albert tutted. The council members behind him crossed their arms as they looked uncomfortably at their old leader. I'm getting really tired of looking at this worm's face, Mike thought.

"This cannot go unpunished, as I'm sure you know, Miss Robinson," Albert continued, stepping towards them. "The both of you must be taken to a special holding room. For special circumstances."

"I see." Angel replied. And then, before anyone could stop her, she devour the curry. Fork and knife flew as splendid servings of saucy goodness hurtled into her mouth.

"Take them!" Albert ordered furiously, his underlings grabbing a vehement Mike, and passive Angel, just as she doggedly consumed the last bite.

Making their way across the soccer field, Hannah made one last desperate bid for freedom. "You know…" she trailed off ominously, turning to her companion with dark, gleaming eyes. "I am very… grateful for the assistance. I haven't had a training partner in such a very long time… All of my past partners had a way of…not working out."

Luke nodded happily, taking an energetic kick at a soccer ball as they passed. "I promise to do my best- Oh!" He missed the ball impressively, and went spinning into Hannah. Blinking in surprise, she flitted out of his way, and watched him fall onto the turf with raised eyebrows.

He got back onto his elbows ruefully, spitting out a clod of dirt. "Sorry… That doesn't happen very often."

Hannah continued to frown at the boy, but she felt felt a tug, a strange urge to smile. Curious. She'd have to work on discipline.

But as she thought this, she found herself stooping down, and helping Luke to his shaking feet. "Thanks," he smiled. "I- Wait…. Is that Fred?"

Hannah whirled around, to track the figure that was fast approaching them. Winnie finished hurtling down the stairs to the field, and dashed over to them, panting. "Hey! Luke! Hannah!" she gasped, staring from one tense face to the other urgently.

"Some thing's gone wrong. Albert… there's something wrong with him; he's not like the other NPC's. Quick, I need you to go find the others, tell them to ready themselves. I don't know what's about to-"

"Hold on," Hannah hissed. "We have visitors." As she spoke, the group of students that had been approaching them stopped. Hannah glared at the black-uniformed student council members in challenge.

"What do you want? We aren't breaking any rules," Winnie called out. The students didn't reply. Hannah felt a chill race down as she saw their eyes. The NPC's eyes, usually as alive as any other, were dull, empty. The students spread out, forming a semicircle around the Battlefront members.

"Hannah…" Winnie muttered. "What is…" A sudden crash interrupted her. They whirled around to its source, and gasped in shock.

"What… what is it?" Luke whimpered.

A second group of student's had reached them. But their eyes weren't on The Battlefront members. These students each pulled, working to drag the massive wagon to the center of the soccer field.

And on that wagon, a soaring, gleaming metal tower shifted. As they watched in disbelief, they saw the top swivel, and turn. A gaping, staring mouth in the tower turned to face them. It clicked to a stop, and then, the dark hole began to revolve, crackling, sparks spitting. The barrel of the instrument began to glow with deadly light.

There was a series of clicks. They turned around again, to find- each of the NPC's, staring at them without thought, each aiming a gun at them without feeling.

"What… what's going on," Luke gasped.

Hannah narrowed her eyes. "That's enough. We are OUT OF HERE!"

The door slammed behind them with a resonating click. With a cry of outrage, Mike stumbled up and slammed against it. He only bounced back with a grunt. He looked up from his spot on the ground, blinking. Cold, non-painted cement walls and floor. A single sink, a heavy, metal door with no knob. A grey cot, a toilet in the corner.

"What are they thinking? They can't lock us up like this! This… this is like solitary confinement!" He staggered to his feet. "Damn it…"

Angel finished her slow survey of the room, and then turned away from the door and climbed onto the cot. "I am going to sleep," she announced calmly.

"What? How could you sleep at a time like this?"

She kicked off her shoes. "I'm tired," she replied. She sat, and slumped carefully against a wall. With a yawn, her eyelids dropped, and she was still.

Mike gazed at her incredulously. He couldn't believe she was actually going to sleep. He kicked the heavy door one last time, and immediately regretted it. Limping, he crashed down on the opposite end of the cot, glancing behind him to make sure he hadn't disturbed his cellmate.

With a jerk, he remembered the item in his pocket. He whipped out the radio, and buzzed in. "Winnie! Hey, I need help," he hissed. He waited for several moments, but there was no reply. "Hey, Winnie, Bridget, I got caught by Albert. He looked me in this weird holding cell, I'm here with Angel." He buzzed in again. Still nothing but static.

Mike's eyes narrowed. "Hello? Anybody? Come on!" With a grunt of anger, he tossed the radio down onto the floor; it skittered across the cold stone.

"Passed a piece of junk onto me… Funny joke," he muttered bitingly. Then, he cradled his head in his hands, and closed his eyes.

The storm of gunfire kicked up again.

"Get down," Winnie ordered, as everyone dove to the bottom of the shelter just in time to avoid the hail of bullets. Richie groaned, nursing the fresh wound in his wide shoulder. "Fred, what do we do?'

Elly popped his head out of their makeshift bleacher barricade, and then drew it back in, his face deathly pale. "Fred… they're more of them behind us, in the plaza. They've surrounded us."

"Any word from team B? We need that back up from the south!" Winnie yelled.

Bridget glanced up from her radio, face tight. "No. there's been no word from team B. They aren't answering."

"No…" someone whispered in horror.

Winnie grit her teeth, veins throbbing. This was insane… ridiculous. The NPC's, the one who'd always been the background to their world… They had turned into vicious, single-minded enemies, beings who killed without thought or hesitation. What could she do against this?

She glanced up, and her eyes widened. "EVERBODY MOVE! IT'S READY AGAIN!" With a flurry of panicked footsteps, their Battlefront group dashed to the left, to dive into another patch of bleachers. Seconds after, the tower in the field below them ignited into brilliant light. There was a crack of liquid-metal thunder, and crashing boom blasted the seats where they had been hiding into a thousand shards of heated metal.

"How did you even escape that to begin with?" Emmanuel said wonderingly.

"Don't ask me. Hannah somehow managed to spirit the three of us out of there…" Winnie whirled around. Where had Hannah gone? She hadn't seen the girl since Hannah had deposited her leader safely off the field back at the HQ, in time for Winnie to try to rally her forces. Actually, she couldn't find Luke either.

"One interesting thing…" Elly pointed out quietly. Somewhere in the muddle, his shirt had been misplaced, and his heroically sculpted body shone like a beacon. "The NPC's are no better with their weapons then others who've never used a gun before. They can't aim, that's the only reason we're still alive. But…they're being led by someone, they're organized."

"Lecher…" Jake snarled in fury, recognizing the offending figure standing on the field below. He stood up, brandishing his blade bravely as he roared. "Hey! Lecher! You filthy, stupid wimp, when I'm through with you, you'll-"

A crack rang out, and Jake slumped to the floor, eyes rolling back into his head.

"Moron," Emmanuel groaned miserably.

Winnie cursed. "Lecher!" she cried. "What the hell is this? What kind of psychotic Student Body president are you?"

There was a moment of silence. Winnie glimpsed Lecher's dark form separate itself from the crowd. "Confused, Winnifred Washington?" Albert's sharp tone rang out. " I'm hardly surprised. You lot aren't exactly the most …observant."

The Battlefront's leader grimaced as a bullet grazed her shoulder. "What do you mean," she called."

"I mean that after all these years, you still haven't realized the truth. I'm a human, just like the rest of you." There was a pause. "Or atleast I was. Now, I believe I am something more.

"Why don't you stop bothering yourselfs, and come down to meet me? For you see, I can help. I can bring peace to all your troubled souls."

The Battlefront stared at each other in shock. Winnie stared down at the radio in her hand. They were trapped. _Mike_, you idiot, where are you…


	34. Chapter 34

A resonating shudder shook through the room. Mike sat up quickly, blinking in shock. He looked around; a fine dust of stone was twinkling down from the ceiling. Behind him, he heard Angel murmur something, and slump further against the wall. She started to slide down the smooth surface. Soon she was lying twisted across the cot.

Mike smiled at her uncertainly. She certainly looked like a goofball while she was asleep; her hair had become tousled and shook up as she fell. Carefully, he stood up. Moving to the front of the cot, he gently adjusted the cot out from the wall. With the motions, Angel fell back, settling into a comfortable position.

Huh, he wondered in awe. If Winnie ever really wanted to beat Angel, all she'd have had to do was find her aslee-

Another thud suddenly rocked the room, making the one that had woke Mike seem a mere blip. He looked around in confusion, the pipes by the sink rattled. Another hail of pebbles fell from the roof.

Beside him, he heard Angel sit up. She looked around, dazed.

Mike put his hand against the wall to steady himself. "What… what the hell is going on outside? Does this world have earthquakes?"

As the throbbing subsided, a sound separated itself from the background noise. "zzzzzHelpzzzzlower cafeteriazzzzneedzzzz" he heard a spat of words, isolated in static. He saw a blinking red light, and made out his radio, buzzing in the dimly lit-gloom. With a cry, he dove down to retrieve the instrument.

"Yes! I'm here," he yelled into it. "What's going on outside? What's all that rumbling?"

As he picked it up, the static fell back a bit, as it the reception had suddenly improved. Mike was able to make out several distinct phrases in the gloom. "Mikezzzzneed youzzzz…We're being attacked, we need you to come…" he heard Winnie's voice bark into the radio urgently.

"Attacked?" he replied. "What's going on? Who's attacking us?'

But Winnie continued as if she hadn't heard him. With a jolt, Mike realized she hadn't. The walls of this room were so thick that his reception was being heavily disrupted.

"ZzzAlbert Lecherzzzdeceiving us. He's not a NPC, Mike. He's a human, hezzz managed to stay in this worldzzzthough he follows the ruleszzzz beats up normal studentszzzvicious, he's trying to take us all down, we needzzz"

"Fred! WINNIE!" Mike answered urgently, but it was useless. He heard the sound of a storm of gunshots, screams of pain, and desperate yells over the radio. When Winnie's voice came again, it was broken, fading, possessing a weakness he'd never heard from his leader before.

"Mike-zzz-using other NPC's against us-zzz-very wrong, we can't fight, we're getting slaut-zzzzzzzzzzzz…

"Please, Mike, we need your help. I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can-zzzz- I don't know-zzzz-we can last."

Mike gazed at the dead radio in his head with total horror. He heard a rustle behind hm.

Angel had stepped off the cot. "Something is wrong," she confirmed.

He lowered the receiver. "Something… I don't know, but something's happened to my friends. Something happening outside, something horrible. We have to get out there!"

He appraised the cell door frantically. It was like nothing he'd seen before at the school. Instead of the wooden panels of the classroom door, it had been forged out of solid steel plates. The greenish-grey metal gleamed at him in the dull lighting, showing no weakness, no way of budging the colossus. The metal looked… queer. It didn't quite fit in with the reality around it. Mike was reminded of the guild's makeshift cannon, how the created material had seemed out of place in the tunnel.

It was no use. He couldn't think of a way out of his prison. He slumped against the wall, clenching his fists. Right now, his friends could be dying, fighting their enemy-

"Mr. Carter," Angel spoke suddenly from behind him. "Are you all right?"

"It doesn't matter… there's nothing that I can do, anyway."

Angel regarded, him, her gaze unreadable. "If I can… I would like to help. Is there anything that I could do?"

Several moments of renewed-hope later, Mike was pressed up against the wall, giving Angel plenty of room. "Just show me any tool you can create, that we might be able to use to get out of here," he asked again, eagerly.

Angel nodded again, and her brow furrowed in concentration. "_Guardskill: Hand Sonic_," she murmured, and flickering blue light flashed in the cell as a conflagration of spinning pieces of program. Flickering ones and zeroes blossomed around her hand, quickly forming into the familiar shape of her weapon.

As soon as the weapon had formed, Angel leapt. Screeches leapt off the walls as metal bit into metal. But every time Angel's metal struck, the door glowed with the same form of blue light, strange polygons forming as the two objects collided. Her strikes didn't even leave a dent.

Mike's head sunk to his chest. "It's useless."

Angel regarded her creation. "This guardskill was never intended to be an offensive weapon. I made it purely for self-defense. I doubted it would be of use."

Mike straightened. "Wait, self-defense?" Glancing at her weapon, a memory returned, one of his earliest. Meeting Angel under a high moon, and getting himself skewered. "Hey," he spoke up, "do you remember what happened when you first met me? You probably don't, but-"

"Yes," she replied immediately, nodding. "I remember. You seemed very confused, and then you made that odd request."

"Exactly! Well, if that misunderstanding hadn't happened, if you hadn't stabbed me, I never would have thought of you as an enemy. I wouldn't have had any reason to." He rubbed his head, thoughtful. "Wouldn't that have been weird? I would have chosen your side! I could have been with you, instead of fighting against-"

"No," Angel broke in softly. "That does not happen. For as long as I have existed in this world, no human has allied with me." She looked down at the cold floor. "Whenever someone tries to make friends with me, they… disappear. The pattern has been, whenever someone has begun to slow down and accept this life, they are obliterated. Everyone… everyone who was friendly to me… has done so."

Mike's mouth hung open as he tried to comprehend. His imagination, active as usual, was happy to oblige.

He imagined Angel, laughing between classes, in the middle of a clump of friends. They walked into their next class, but one of them paused at the door, and when the others turned to look, the individual was simply gone. At lunch, Angel treated herself to Chupa Curry with her friends, and one of the, in the midst of jokingly trying a spoonful, also vanished, leaving the spoon to clatter to the table. One by one, all of Angel's friends passed on. Apparently, you passed on from this world if you simply accepted a normal school life. So all of Angel's friends would have left her, leaving her all alone.

That must be really tough, even for an angel, Mike worried. And then the Battlefront came along, and she had start using guardskills to defend herself… I wonder if she can even talk to God. It would certainly fit in with what I know about him if he just left her here, left his angel all by herself.

Arg! This is all so screwed up! This whole world is one big cruel mess, how could any of us be expected to deal with this?

Angel's soft voice interrupted his worries.

"_Version: Two_," she murmured. As she spoke, the ethereal glow returned, and the metal protruding from her wrist glowed, and suddenly lengthened, until it possessed the size and shape of a lance. The point of the weapon scraped the sides of the cell as Angel turned to Mike. "This weapon was designed for facing large opponents," she explained. "It's thinner and lighter than the original, and allows for easy maneuvering."

"Oh… but, I don't think that'll really help us now."

She nodded. "_Version: Three_." As she spoke, the lance began to glow as white as smelting metal, and suddenly stretched and condensed into a new form. A wicked trident grew out of her arm, the triple prongs barbed and leering. She glanced at it. "Hideous… isn't it?"

Mike stared at the demonic appendage in shock. "Um… it's cool. But… do you have anything else?"

Angel huffed. "Yes. _Version: Four." _The gruesome appendage dissipated, and reformed into a gigantic, bulbous flower. Strangely shaped pink petals were scattered over it half-hazardly, with the grey steel below bleeding through all over. It looked like a child's drawing, made into metal.

"I tried to make a flower," Angel said anxiously. "Do you think it looks cute and lifelike?"

Mike stepped back. "Um, honestly, no. It's actually kinda creepy."

"Oh…"

Mike paused. His imagination, stimulated into overdrive, suddenly caught on something. Wrapping itself around the shard of an idea, it spun, and spun some more. "Hang on," he said. "I've got an idea."

Beneath the school, miles of tunnels stretched in an unmappable warren of paths. Pipes clanged, mice scurried. The Guild claimed the underground as their home, but even they could not account for every inch of its depths. There were none among the Battlefront who could.

Ten fingers intertwined. Eyes blinked, seeing without light.

Humans were curious creatures. They wandered around, caught in their tiny goals, petty missions and small dreams.

Two lips split in a knowing smile. However, all of their efforts couldn't escape the simple reality. The will of the Creator would be done.


	35. Chapter 35

"_Handsonic: Version Two_" Angel declared. She stepped back as the thin lance sprouted from her form, taking shape in the shadows of their cell. With one definite movement, she plunged forward, wedging the slender blade in the fine crack between the door, and the wall.

"It worked," Mike observed eagerly. "Now, see if you can…"

But Angel was way ahead of him. "_Version: three." _The blade began to expand. As it widened, it sent cracks racing along the walls. "_Version: Four." _The blade burned white, and exploded outward. Mike fell back as the door burst outward. It flew down the hallway, eventually slamming to a stop against a wall. The fragments of the wall rained down on them. An alarm began to sound shrilly, attacking their ears. Jumping to his feet, they leapt out of the room, and stood, dazed, in the hallway, momentarily soaking in the feeling of freedom.

They had to go. "Come on," Mike urged, taking his companion's hand as he pulled her along.

They left the school by the cafeteria, and dashed out onto the plaza. Gasping, Mike came to a stop at the top of the winding path that led down to the fields.

A towering, mechanical structure had been set up on the field. Deployed around it was a versatile army of students, most of which wore the black uniforms of the student council. The army was in the process of storming a heavily battered fortification on the slopes leading down to the soccer field, apparently made of hastily moved bleachers. He could see-

"Hey! Morons! Get out of the open, before you give away our position," a voice hissed from the bushes to their left. Before Mike and Angel could react, a shadowy form leapt out, caught them by the shoulders, and had dragged them back into the brambles.

Hannah set them down on the prickly ground, and then moved to gaze back out through the leaves. She did a double take. "Wha… Mike, why in the hell is _Angel _with you?" She glared at the offender menacingly. Angel glazed back steadily.

"Hannah, what, _what's going on?_" Mike gasped.

"Basically, Albert's trying to kill all of us," a scared voice from beside them whispered. Luke crawled up to be closer to them. "They set up that cannon, and just started besieging us. We tried to organize against them but… they just have too much firepower, and too many people. We, we're getting swarmed…"

"But, those are NPC's! They're normal high school students! Why are they attacking us?"

"Lecher…" Hannah replied darkly. "He is no normal NPC. He may be something worse. He's… changed something. The NPC's are following him blindly. I suspect an alteration in the programming."

"No," Angel replied immediately. They turned to her in shock. "The programming for this world's NPC's is very complicated. I doubt anyone would know enough to be able to alter it. Certainly not Mr. Lecher. "

Angel gazed off through the brush, at the blood being shed below her. "Lecher is a human. And he is not familiar with programming."

"And why should we trust you?" Hannah hissed. "I trust you least of all, angel of the Lord. And besides, that cannon was obviously made through programming. It's made of the same metal as our guns, as your blade."

Hannah withdrew her knife, and casually weighted it in her palm. "I am going to bring death on this enemy. I won't wait for you all to keep up."

Mike panted, sprinting to keep up with Hannah. They ran along the riverbank without speaking. This was wrong; he knew that unless they pooled their strengths, they wouldn't be able to thwart-

Hannah abruptly came to a stop. Mike reached her side, gasping. Within moments, Angel was with them, her face flushed. "What…what is this," she asked. Her voice cracked.

Strewn across the path was a scene of jarring horror. As the river rushed along beside them, they walked around bloody, unmoving bodies. Battlefront members lay in unnatural positions, their life leaking out through a hundred holes. The members of GirlDeMo had fallen together by the shore. Leonard was lying on his back, TK right next to him, as if they had been back-to-back.

Luke finally caught up, fighting for breath. "Hey, there's no need to go so fast, I, I… Oh, my…"

Hannah had slumped, her face gone slack at the sight of her friends. "This… how could this…"

Stepping forward, Mike swallowed. "We have to end this. This Student Body President is out of control, I don't think he'll stop. "Mike looked around. "If we all strike him when he isn't expecting it, we have a chance. Ang-, uh, Miss Robinson, will you help us?"

Angel nodded simply.

"The cannon. We have to take it down," Hannah spoke thickly.

Mike clenched his fists, and gazed up at the hill to his left, at the fields. "Right. We'll keep cutting around, and then strike. Me, Luke, and Hannah will try to make our way through the NPC's, we can't kill them… but we'll think of something. Miss Robinson, we're relying on you to take down the cannon."

They all looked at Mike with dazed, but strengthening expressions. Then, they began to run.


	36. Chapter 36

Mike peeked around the corner of Hannah's shed. They were in luck, there wasn't many NPC's on the field, they must all be-

A cry of pain rang out. Mike turned around, and his blood ran cold. Lecher was leading a contingent of his minions down to the field-and held in the NPC's clutches was the survivors of the Battlefront, scarred and struggling. They were out of time!

"Go, NOW!" Hannah ordered. She flew past him, scarf ruffling as she sprinted. Before her enemies could register her presence, she had hefted the necks of two students in each hand, and flipped up into the air. As she flipped, her momentum sent the victims flying into two more of their comrades, who all went down in a heap. She landed, dodged beneath the rain of retaliating gunfire, and then kicked off again into the fray.

Mike ran forward recklessly, the cannon, he had to clear the way to the cannon! He rammed his shoulder into the back of one student who was facing Hannah's onslaught. Stumbling to remain on his feet, he glanced around. Hannah was surrounded by a mass of attackers, somehow managing to send each one sprawling. But she couldn't hurt normal students, and they kept on getting back up…

Suddenly, Mike noticed something. A single NPC, one he recognized, was wandering up behind Hannah with a zombie's agility. Mike started to run towards him, but it was too far, he couldn't make it. He could see, with one slow motion, Kyle lift up his arm, and take aim-

Luke collided into Kyle with a grunt, and the two of them tumbled onto the turf.

Hearing the sound, Hannah paused in her fight, and glanced behind her. She was just in time to see Kyle drag a pistol to Luke's head. While shaking with fright, Luke managed to give her one last smile, before the NPC ended him.

Hannah didn't cry out, didn't howl, didn't roar with rage. Her eyes just narrowed, and the tangle of NPC's around her exploded outward.

Mike ducked left, and right, trying frantically to avoid the scattered shots flying everywhere. Their initial advantage of surprise had quickly vanished, and their enemies were rallying around them. A pod of NPC's had broken off from the captives, and was on a course for interception.

He felt a presence behind him, and whirled around to find Angel at his shoulder, gazing ahead steadily. "You want the tower to be destroyed?" she confirmed, her voice barely heard in the roar of battle.

"Yes! Please, Miss Robinson, Hurry!" Mike winced as his luck ran out, and he felt a bullet burry itself in his shoulder. Gasping, he stumbled to his knees. When he looked up, Angel was gone.

He saw her sprinting ahead, running right through a group of NPC's without turning to look.

"_Guardskill: Delay," _and most of the bullets that whizzed to pursue her passed harmlessly through her echo.

Angel suddenly paused, and looked down. A flower of red was blossoming at her navel, someone had gotten lucky. From across the field, Mike gasped at her in horror.

Angel stood still for a moment, and then straightened. The bullet exited her chest quietly, plummeting to the ground. "That almost reached this heart," she said to herself. "I can't allow that. I cannot allow this heart to be damaged."

A group of NPC's had been planning on taking advantage of her gap in concentration, and had almost reached her. But as they aimed, they were suddenly sent skidding away, a blur displacing them. Hannah landed on her feet, and glared over at Angel. "Come on, we have to finish this."

But Angel only indicated the area in front of her, directly in front of the tower. It was covered in a throng of students, all heading towards them. 'I can't, she said simply. "I cannot progress without harming these students."

Hannah cursed bitterly. "Fine! Just be ready. "

Abruptly, Hannah was across the field, to the side of the tower. She paused, standing conspicuously and alluringly a few yards from the bulk of Lecher's army. Raising a hand, she waved at them.

As one mass, they began to trundle off, right to her.

A cry rang out from the far end of the field. "Enough! This ends now," came the pompous voice of the Student Body President. "I won't have any more of this resistance," he yelled at Hannah's distant form. "Desist this idiocy at once, or I shall take drastic measures!" As he spoke, the tower roared to life. Swiveling, the strange light flickered on at the back of the cannon's maw, as it turned to aim down, directly at Hannah.

"Hannah," Mike called frantically. "Don't let him do it! All of the normal students are in the blast radius!"

She narrowed her eyes, glancing around her. "I'm surrounded by bureaucrats… Arg, this is so stupid." She looked over. There was finally an opening to the tower, Angel was beginning to move. She glanced up. The tower, she had watched it during the earlier scrimmage and believed she knew how it worked. It locked onto a target, warmed up, and then fired. She was the target, and it looked pretty warm.

She looked around at the oncoming mass. Enemies, all of them. You couldn't afford to give ground, couldn't afford to be merciful… It would be the most strategic to dive into the middle of them, and take them out all at once. Squinting, she saw the sun glint off a female's student's earrings, twin yawing teddies. Adorable teddies.

Oh… gosh darn it.

As the cannon's barrel turned a golden orange, Hannah flitted to the side, just before the first of her attackers reached her. Covering ground faster than she could ever remember, she reached an empty corner of the field, and looked up just in time to see-

Mike tripped in shock as he saw Hannah smolder and come apart in a flash of white. Only a smoldering crater was left on the soccer field behind her.

Angel was flying. She traveled through the grass effortlessly, dodging past assailants, sometimes simply leaping over them.

The closer she got, the more deranged Lecher became. His perfectly coifed hair had gone rabid, and he spat as he watched his predecessor race towards his prize, eyes wild.

"Stop, Miss Robinson! I am the Student Body President, and I order you to stop!" he cried, kicking out. His foot caught Winnie's face, and she struggled, unable to break free from her captor's arms. "I am the law in this school! Stop!"

Mike continued towards his destination, enabled by the massive distraction posed by Angel. He ran from side to side, trying to take advantage of the NPC's terrible aim. However, as he neared Albert, another shot grazed his arm, sending a fiery burn to match the ache in his shoulder. "Doesn't listen to him!" he cried out, striding right for Albert. "You know what he's doing is wrong!"

As Angel entered the shadow of the weapon, she paused, glancing at Mike. She nodded. "_Guardskill: Handsonic."_

"No!" Albert howled. He started to back away as Mike drew steadily closer, the immediate NPC silently following their last order to constrain the Battlefront members. "You peasants! You aren't aware of the mistake you're making!"

Lecher's face darkened, as fury stared out through his ravaged face. "Punish him," he called out to his followers. "Shoot the captives. Now."

Gunshots broke the silence. Mike's friends went sent sputtering to the red-stained ground.

Angel cleared the last of the opposition, and with a single movement, leapt up into the air. She pushed herself off the cannon's frame, its barrel, a crack in its structure, until she had jumped up to its pinnacle. As she reached the top, the action slowed, as those still drawing breath turned to see what would occur next. Angel's blade plunged down.

It glanced off the shimmering blue-grey steel of the cannon with a screech. Angel was sent tumbling. She caught herself, and unleashed a flurry of strikes against the head of the machine, a storm of torturous cracks and scratches, sparks flying as she hammered.

But it was just as it had been with the door; the blade had no visible impact on the structure. The only sign of impact were ethereal polygons that appeared at the place of collision. Finally, Angel slowed and stopped. She stood silhouetted at the top of the weapon.

Albert straightened. His lack of stability had dissipated; a smirk of total confidence possessed him. "It's no use, Miss Robinson. It's been formed from the same material as your "weapons." Now, if you could simply-"

With one swift movement, Angel interrupted Albert. She raised her blade above her head, and held it in her hand. With steady eyes, she gazed down below her at the carnage, and tilted her head.

"_Guardskill: Return_". Silently, an ethereal glow spread from her hand and consumed the blade, enveloping it in light. When the light faded, the blade had disappeared, leaving only fading streams of 1's and 0's in its wake.

Albert frowned. "No…"

But as he spoke, the pinnacle of his cannon suddenly began to gleam with red-light, steam rippled through the air as the metal heated. The superheating spread throughout the structure, until it shimmered orange. The tower almost seemed to burn, patches of it peeling out and turning brown. Then, with a sigh and shuffle, the pillar of dirt collapsed onto the field, sending Angel sliding down among them.

Albert blinked. But then he caught his breath, and smiled back at Angel. "How did you break out of that cell, Miss Robinson? I spent months preparing it, just for you. "And there was a click. All across the field, his followers, no longer occupied, raised their weapons to aim directly at Angel, a hundred barrels threatening.

"I broke it down," Angel replied simply. "Albert. Where did you find that door? And this cannon? They were not made by your hands."

Albert's lipped curled. "You have no clue as to the extent of my abilities. But, yes. They were both a gift, tools to bring about a new order. To bring my kingdom. "

Mike heard a groan beside him, and with a gasp, he realized the figure next to him still breathed. He dashed to the body lying on the ground. "Harry!" he cried. "Harry, Harry, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I…"

"Hey… you ran right to me man… are you gay?"

Mike bowed his head, eyes going red. "It's… It's no time for jokes."

Albert chuckled. "Pathetic. Such a waste. Soon, all of this will be at an end."

Angel stepped toward, but Albert caught the movement. "Halt! Are you seriously planning on defying me, Miss Robinson? I am the Student Body President. And… I am God."

Angel blinked.

Mike's mouth dropped open. "What… are you insane?"

"I, am, God!" Albert lifted his head up to the sky, the light from the setting sun basking his face in a golden glow. He smiled. "Haven't you realized it by now? This world gives us the ability to be God. We can never die; we can create anything we know from dirt…

"To be God… is to have total power. I now have total power over this world. I have total control, to power to create, to change… and to destroy. That is all it means to be God is, power and control." Albert's eyes gleamed. "On eart, _the Father _had control over our lives. Now, the power is mine. And believe me, he isn't going rescue you. He's left you alone. Just as he did when we were alive._"_

"But do not worry. I am an efficient God. I did not waste my time here, such as you did. I learned hypnotism," he said, gesturing around to his unblinking followers. "A very useful skill, even if it took a while. My efforts were noticed, and I was granted power. I have finally achieved the power to constrain both Miss Robinson and your foolish Battlefront, the name of which never stays the same for more than a day. I am now God. And now, I will bring peace."


	37. Chapter 37

"You're crazy!" Mike cried, leaning over Harry's coughing body. "You're just putting everyone through hell!"

Albert smiled benignly. "That is simply because you all insisted on making things difficult. You insisted on defying my new order. I can see that none of you will be able live in harmony on your own power, either in my domain, or in your hilarious struggles against Miss Robinson. You're all too idiotic. In short, you're all morons."

Albert made his way to the row of shattered Battlefront fighters. "But, I am a good, gracious God, and I will bring peace to all, even those who resist. All will be _made_ to find peace." As he said this, he suddenly stooped, and dragged someone up from the ground.

Winnie groaned in agony, and coughed up a bubble of blood. Albert set her on her knees, and then gripped her head between his hands, gazing at her intensely. Mike started toward them, but was quickly stopped by the several dozen calmly held pistols.

"You poor dear…" Albert crooned. "So conflicted, so confused, and so unhappy… I believe I know why your friend Hayley left you, my dear. It seemed to me that was she was obliterated because she reached a pinnacle of emotion. My theory is, she became so emotionally charged, that her spirit slipped though the bonds of this world, and moved on. Doesn't that sound nice, my dear? To finally find peace?"

"You… don't know anything about me…" Winnie coughed.

"Ah, but that's the beauty of hypnotism. I don't need to. Don't worry. Soon, your wretched past will be gone. You will be free from your memories. I am going to liberate you.

"Now, just be still, and look into my eyes. Such intriguing eyes, aren't they, my dear? Very striking features, notice the specks of color… the way they shimmer, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

Winnie's transfixed eyes held his, and then glazed over.

She blinked. Everything was gone, there was only white all around her, white stretching out in all directions, leaving her alone-

She heard a giggle, and whirled around immediately. Her blood froze.

"Hey there, big sis," her younger sister giggled, smiling up at her. Her other two siblings were beside her, holding hands. They all looked up at Winifred adoringly, with trusting smiles. Trusting, trusting, _trusting _smiles.

Winnie stumbled away from them, feeling her heart begin to race as horror gripped her. "No," she screamed at them. "No, it's a lie! I, failed you, I couldn't save you! Please, please, just stop looking at me…"

But her family didn't stop for a moment; she couldn't hide from their eyes. "Winnie-Ginny," her youngest sibling chimed, his curly brown locks swaying. "I so glad you're my big sis."

There was sickening flash, and they were gone. Her world turned black, occupied only by three, tiny coffins. Then her siblings were back. They were still smiling, telling her they loved her.

Winnie fell to her knees, bringing her hand to her face. "_No, please! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_." She felt herself exploding inside, ground ripping shame and sorrow eating through her. She was dying, burning from the inside-"

Harsh sounds and colors rushed over her. She saw the bloodied soccer field rush back into place as the figure that had been holding her fell away.

Mike drove Albert into the ground. A single bullet grazed his back dispassionately, but most of the NPC's were too clueless to reach him, and without further orders, they didn't know to try again.

They tumbled over the turf, until Mike pushed Albert down, pinning him into his arms. Mike beheld Albert's shocked, sweat stained face with furious energy.

"_Don't do it, don't destroy her like that_!" he cried at Albert, holding him fervently. "Don't pass her on with false memories, don't just disregard her life!" The younger boy growled back in his face, but Mike continued on.

"All of our lives were true. They were real! _Don't you dare make up something false. _Our pasts helped make us who we are. We all fought, we all bled, we all struggled through our lives, and these memories are carved on our soul! It's no peace if you destroy our memories, if you take away part of who we are."

"Our pasts have shaped who we are. It's no peace if you just erase our memories, you're just taking away part of us."

Harry gazed at the two with dazed eyes. Winnie had sunk to the ground, and listened feebly. Albert was relinquishing his struggles, and now just lay, looking up at Mike, gazing at him fixatedly as he spoke out.

"No matter how hard, how painful our lives were, they're still ours. They're still our lives. Please, don't take them away." Mike stared right into Albert. "Wasn't your life real? Wasn't it the real thing to?"

Albert froze. Then, through stiffened, cracked lips, he finally whispered a reply. "No. No, it never was.

₪"I was born into a family of tradition. We were potters, the very best. My father had been a great potter, his father had been a great potter, and his father had been a great potter. And now… my brother was going to follow them.

Anthony was immensely talented, a prodigy. Everyone knew he'd gone on to do incredible things for our family's name, achieve new heights.

I, on the other hand, was an extra. I existed on the margins, the periphery. I spent most of my time playing video games, alone in my room. I wasn't really necessary.

One day, my brother and I were playing. He was intended to go off to an art based middle school that fall. Soon there would be such a difference between my brother and I, we would never again be equals.

But on that last day, we went to our favorite spot by the creek, to climb the old oak tree that swayed on its banks. We climbed higher, higher than we'd ever tried before. My brother wanted to stop, but I wanted to keep going, until we could see the sky out of the top. We continued on over the whizzed branches, going higher, higher, higher, until I could see the sun-

"And the branch broke from under us. We fell. I landed on the grass, and broke three ribs. My brother landed on the rocks. He died.

Except… he didn't die. My brother survived. I was the one who died.

My family had us switch places. I had been the one who died, a loss not long mourned. I assumed his identity, his place as the next achievement of the family.

Then, I undertook great training in the name of rehabilitation for my injuries; I would train eight, sometimes ten hours a day, all in an effort to gain skill. I was a not a natural potter, I, I couldn't create things with natural vision, with talented grace. My father was livid.

'You spent my valuable time making this?' he would often say, before he threw my work against a wall. "Disgraceful. You are hopeless."

But… I worked so very hard, all to appease my family. I made work after work, signing every piece with Anthony Lecher. All to show worth. And, very slowly, too slowly, I learned. At a national artisan fair, I won a prize, honorable mention. Considering the amount of contestants, it was an incredible achievement, especially for someone of my age. But, my art was still nowhere near the standard of the Lecher family. And I didn't win.

'Ridiculous,' I remember my father saying, standing straight by our display, mouth straight as a wire. 'This performance is absolutely ridiculous. I expect far better.'

'This is great!' I remember thinking. 'I'm going to keep training under my strict father, and get better, and better! Maybe, someday… I might get good enough for him to be proud of me.'

But then, my father became bedridden. He was so sick, he couldn't even spin a potter's wheel, he couldn't teach me pottery. He was even too sick to scold me, He'd just smile gently when I came to feed him, overcome with fever. "Anthony, thank you," he'd say, and I realized, that my own father was even forgetting of the existence of the boy called Albert.

I was truly the one who died. All along, it was only ever Anthony, and my father. Anthony was the one who worked and trialed so hard over the years. Anthony is really the one who's here, before you now… I never existed. I had no purpose, no reason for being, I was so useless my own life wasn't worth enough to be lived; I had to try, and fail, to live the life of another. _The life of Albert Lecher was a lie._ I have no purpose-"

With a sudden movement, Mike reached, and pulled Albert's shivering form into his arms, enfolding him in an embrace.

"_Wasn't your life real too?"_ he said. Mike's energy had only grown, now pouring out like a flood. "Albert, you were the one who worked hard all those years! You're the one who fought and struggled, not your family, not anybody else. It was your life!"

Albert's mouth fell open in shock at the sudden contact. "What would you know about it?" he managed.

"I know it, because you're _here_." You're in this world with the rest of us, fighting, and struggling. _You're here._"

Albert's brown eyes widened. "You, you… acknowledge me? You acknowledge that I exist?"

"Who else is here with me? Right now, you're here with me. There's only you_."_

Albert had stopped struggling. He closed his eyes, tight in Mike's embrace.

"All my life… I just wanted one thing. I wanted my father to look at me, and say, 'that wasn't half bad, Albert. Not half bad.' I wanted him to acknowledge me."

"I wanted my father to be proud of me."

**A/N End of Mission six. I had a lot of fun adding on to this chapter; I just kinda love writing battle scenes. Thanks for all the support, it's meant a lot. **


	38. Chapter 38

"Hey, Mr. Upper-class-men sir, I've got a new wrestling move to try on you!" Julie declared, hopping up and down in front of him. "I'm calling it the super-slam-a-jammy-whammy. Can I try it on you? Puh-lease? I promise to go easy."

Harry eyed her with grade A disgust.

"Right, right man, hunka-hunka burn'en love," TK directed from across the room, where he was patiently teaching an affable Richie the fifth to moon walk. They almost walked backwards right into Jake, who, of course, took it as a personal offense.

"Easy, man." Elliot cautioned, lowering Jake's suddenly raised blade. "Let's not have any more decapitating, all right?"

Emm snored peacefully on the sofa, foot twitching.

"Hannah! I have something to show you!" Luke said, slipping through the HQ door, holding something behind his back.

Upon recognizing the voice, Hannah looked up from her customary spot in the back, shadowy corner, to gaze at Luke coolly. "I told you. I'm not going to converse with you further. You got in the way of my battle, and … and... And besides, I'm sick and tired of you asking me to play go fish with you, even if we are betting potato chips."

"I found this in an empty classroom!" Luke continued, revealing a small, worn teddy bear, with one ear and several rips. Hannah gasped.

She immediately reached for it, and gently clasped it to her chest, stuttering to herself. "He's so handsome," she gushed, leaning her cheek down to rest on it, and rocking slightly. She quickly stopped, and straightened, still cradling the bear.

Luke gave her a shy, awkward smile. "You can have it, if you want. I thought you'd like it."

"Oh… um, thank you. I suppose."

"Fine! I see you don't desire to help a young girl pursue her dreams!" Julie pouted, flouncing away.

Harry sighed. "Aw geez, what's going on… Is this kindergarten? It seems like all of our new members are nothing but brats."

From beside him on the couch, Albert snapped his book closed with a thump. "Excuse me… but were you referring to me? I'll have you know, I am God!"

Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes non chalantly. "Aw, please. Are you still going on about that nonsense? And there you were, hugging Mike, crying like a baby. Course, then Winnie came over and shot you in the head, she was so ticked off-"

"_Who did you say cried?" _Albert hissed, his face crossing the feet between them in a matter of milliseconds. Harry yipped in shock as the Student Body President's large, luminous eyes suddenly filled his vision, like a cobra's stare.

"Come now… _realize _how useless you are, compared to… clothespins. _Understand _your true inferiority, compared to the wonderful clothespin…."

Harry broke out into a cold sweat. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and his vision zoomed in on the table in front of him. Lying there, winking at him, a Hello-Kitty clothespin held majestic domain.

Harry's eyes went as wide as doorknobs, his teeth started chattering. "Clothes… pins… pin, things together, they keep clothes from falling on-the-ground-and-getting dirty! They can even be used as paperclips, THEY'RE SO VERSATILE! WHAT AM I IN COMPARISON, I'M NOT WORTHY TO CONTEMPLATE THEIR BEAUTY…"

As Harry crumpled into a gargling mass on the sofa, a strong hand abruptly lifted Albert up by his collar, and brought him up to eye level.

"Hey man, you can't abuse hypnotism like that," Mike chastised.

"But, but, he started it! I was just trying to end it peacefully, and…  
Mike rolled his eyes, and pointed at Harry, who was now in the fetal position. "I wouldn't call that peaceful."

The door opened behind them, and Winnie poked her head out. "Hey, Mike- and Albert, you too. I need to talk to you both for a moment.

She led them through the sun-basked hallway, and into an abandoned teacher's lounge. Mike looked around curiously as they entered; all that was left here was a bunch of empty filing cabinets, and one long, gnarled wooden table. "What's going on?"

"First of all Albert, I want you to tell me how you got possession of that cannon, as well as the door that was used to contain Angel." Winnie's gaze shot daggers into the boy. "Both were highly unusual. Neither was made with the normal substance of created material. They were made with the same substance as Angel's blades."

Albert paled. "Um… what would happen if I said I don't know?"

Winnie's hand came to rest on her weapon's holster.

Albert gulped, and reflexively inched toward Mike. "No, I'm being serious… please, you have to believe me.

"They all just showed up. First was the book of hypnotism. I had woken up, like all the rest of you, but well… I'm really not the best at talking to people. Rather than announce myself to the Battlefront, I hid among the NPC's, and, well, you know. I got a little angry after a while."

"The book just showed up one morning, at the foot of my bed. I possess superior intelligence; I got the technique down in weeks."

Albers eyes narrowed. "Though, to be honest, I doubt it would work as effectively in the real world. In this world, people's emotions are more susceptible."

"Anyway, once I mastered the technique… I found something on the last page, a quote. "The only true power is the power to protect oneself, to be one's own God." It started me thinking about how I could change things to my favor. After that, I found the prison room, with the door. And then, once you all drove Angel out of power, I was free. She was the only thing that had held me in check. Without having to deal with God's little soldier, I could put my plans in motion. It was at that point that I found the cannon, just waiting by the river."

Winnie massaged her temple. "You're telling me all of these tools just appeared? Like gifts from the super-villain fairy?"

Albert huffed. "That's hardly a kind remark. And yes, at the time I did find it suspicious, but to useful to think much on. In hindsight… it appears I was played."

Mike drummed the table. What the… "Winnie, what do you think-"

"It's all right, Mike. We'll deal with this later. There's something more important that we need to get to."

"Albert," Winnie asked, turning to face them, hands on hips. "I want you to use your abilities to restore Michael's memories."

Albert jerked. "What? I'm the Student Body President, don't tell me what to do-"

Mike nudged him. "Just role with it, dude, Winnie's a great leader. Following her advice generally leads to-"he trailed off, and his eyes bugged out. "Wait a darn minute! You're going to do what?"

She pursed her lips. "Albert's hypnotic abilities are authentic. I'm pretty sure that he'll be able to restore your memories, Mike."

Albert nodded. "Okay… I agree, if it's to help Michael."

"But, but, what if I don't want him to?  
Winnie blinked at him in confused irritation. "What, you want to stay an amnesiac forever? And besides…" She lowered her gaze, as her voice softened. "You said it yourself. Our memories are part of who we are. I understand you've been feeling a little confused, and not quite sure really… just who you are. Balderdash, in my opinion. You're Mike, the most corny, goofy, useless-in-a-fight sentimental moron I've ever known. But… I want you to remember your life. I think you deserve it."

He hesitated. It was true; he desperately wanted to remember his past. By now, he remembered most things about the normal world, which football team played for New York, what an electron was, who killed Dumbledore. But to know his own life… maybe then he could better understand what his friends had gone through.

His friends… that was just it. What if, once he remembered… He disappeared? Would there be nothing to tether him here?

I like it here, he realized. I really like being with the Battlefront, they've all become so special to me. I don't want to leave them…

"Mike?" Winnie questioned.

He swallowed. "All right. Fine."

Albert stepped toward him. "Mike, I just want you to know… that whatever happens, I'll always be with you." He took Mike's shaking hand, and gazed up into Mike's face. "I'll always be on your side."

The seconds ticked by. Mike gazed back, unsure how to respond. "Please say something," Albert pleaded, smiling painfully. "This is really awkward, right now."

"Well, you know, however you end up on the other end, I'll still be your ally," Winnie muttered, trying to appear unconcerned. "Not going to leave you behind."

He smiled at her. "Thanks, Winnie. It's good to know."

"What, why, what's the difference between her and… I don't even… Alright, fine, whatever. Let's go."

They both took seats at the gnarled table. Mike felt the unshaven prickles of wood bit into his hands as he laid them down. Across the table, Albert gazed at him. "All right. I'm going to begin… Now." And his eyes grew and grew, until-


	39. Chapter 39

"Hey, bro, what's school like?"

"It's pretty terrible… Believe me, you're not missing anything."

Outside the window, clouds trundled past, dancing around the sunlight. The golden glow felt through the glass onto a hospital cot, and its occupant. The young girl brought the blanket up to her chin for a moment, head tucked onto her thin wrists, before bringing it back down. She gazed up at her brother.

"Terrible? Aw, it doesn't sound that bad to me! You have all kinds of teachers, and classes. You get to study!"

Mike snorted. "Studying isn't any fun, Lizzy."

"But you get to see people! Isn't it fun, spending the day with your friends?"

"I don't know." Mike squirmed, rubbing his knobby shoulder. "I never really liked any of it, I guess. The being with people, I mean. Like, in school you just have to socialize, avoid awkward situations, and fit in. It's just hard to be with people."

Mike scratched at a spot on his chin. "It's just too much of a bother. Whatever, I dropped out. It's over now."

For a moment, Elizabeth's smile slipped, and Mike saw concern break through her bittersweet features. He hastily spoke again.

"But, I got my part-time job now, and it's great. I don't really have to deal with people. It's the life, I'm telling you!"

With a laugh, Lizzy smiled again, the tube protruding from her wrists swishing as she moved to embrace Mike.

She's so silly, Mike though, shivering in the cold. He ducked his head as another car passed, the orange stick in his hands glinting as he directed the vehicle.

If she knew what school was like, how hard it is to talk to people, then she would know why I gave up. Well, that was, if she ever…

Mike shivered again. She will, he promised himself.

Elizabeth hadn't been to school in years. Not since they had first found her tumor. She didn't know what it was like; she couldn't not wonder what existence was like outside of a hospital bed.

Their country's healthcare program paid for her basic treatment. Mike certainly wouldn't have been able to. After leaving school, he had gone to work for a contracting agency. After less than a week on the job, he had been shifted from any kind of skilled labor, to directing traffic around the construction.

Mike didn't mind. This way he didn't have to talk to anyone.

Another cutting gust whipped through him, sending his long tangled locks flipping. He probably should get a haircut, but he just couldn't work up the will to get around to it.

Maybe I should just quit, he thought, as he waved another car by.

It's just so much work. I guess I need this job to eat, otherwise I can't live.

He shivered, and his eyelids dropped. Still… It sure would be nice to just…

His eyes abruptly flew open. Well, wait. There was one other thing he needed to keep working for. He needed the money to pay for Lizzy's graphic novels.

That Saturday morning, after a night of half-sleep, he stopped by the bookstore again. He didn't stay long, because the cashier tried to talk with him as he checked out. He supposed she must have recognized him, considering how often he stopped at the shop.

Lizzie's doctor greeted him as he entered. Mike nodded at the diminutive women, and then frowned as he realized something.

He brought Lizzie a graphic novel every week. She tore through them, something about the adventures, the lively characters, he didn't know…

But, with dull regret, he realized something. Didn't most graphic novels follow a series? As far as he knew, he had just picked up whatever was stacked on the shops' discount counter. He didn't know if what he'd been giving her was all from the same series, or just random snapshots of different stories. Would she…?

"Thanks, bro!" Lizzie beamed. "Love you!" And without further ado, she brought the book up her eager gaze, tucking her knees under her chin.

Mike slumped into his chair at her bedside. She always says that, he thought in wonder. "Thanks Bro, love you!" Regardless of what I bring.

Watching her alive with energy, he smiled. The feeling he got, hearing her thank him, seeing her happy, it felt different. Unlike every other moment of his existence, he felt aglow.

I want to feel like this more, Mike realized.

Later that night, he formulated his plan.

Christmas is coming, he thought to himself, lying alone in his apartment. Don't kids like Christmas? I guess I did. And Lizzie, she's never really done anything for it before! I wonder if wheelchairs work in the snow… Well, I'll figure it out. I should take her out for dinner! Hmm, I'll need to start saving.

That Sunday morning, he ran to the Hospital. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lizzy's doctor as he strode through the door.

The hospital director glanced at his employee.

"When do you think we should tell him, Espinoza?"

The pediatrician turned away, eyes strained. "There's no hurry, sir. Please, let's just give those two of them a bit more time. "

As Mike entered the room, he noticed a new feature of the place. Someone had placed a flower on Lizzie's windowsill. A second apparatus had been brought in, and was hooked to a mask around Lizzie's face.

Whatever, he thought, as she turned to him, delighted. I'm used to the weird tests.

"Hey Lizard, where do you want to go for Christmas this year?"  
She blinked. "Get out. What do you mean?"

He beamed. "This year, we're going out! Sight-seeing, shopping, you name it! Then, we'll go to dinner!"

Lizzie giggled, she thought he was joking. "Well, the trees on Main Street light up on Christmas! We should go see those."

"You're joking, do they?"

She punched his shoulders with the force of a breeze. "Of course, silly! Didn't you know! I read it in the paper."

"Well, I just don't get around a lot." Mike smiled. "Well, then it's decided. This Christmas, we'll go see the trees. And if they don't let you, then well, I'll just sneak you out."

Her eyes widened. "Wait… you really mean it?"

He nodded eagerly.

She cheered. "Oh, amazing! Thanks Bro! You're the best!"

The best, Mike thought, dazed.

In the days that followed, he had a purpose. It was a strange feeling for Mike, like holding a great weight, while being pulled forward by gilded wings. He got a secure job stocking shelves at the grocery store. Early in the morning, he'd be found lifting crates, eyes distant as he planned.

He'd found some magazines and looked through the adds. What kind of diner would an eleven year old girl like to have? Some place nice, of course, it was a special occasion. And her gift! It was Christmas, after all. Smiling to himself, Mike decided it would be best if she picked it herself. Why, last week he'd made $300. $300! She could pick out whatever she wanted.

Only one memory clouded his thoughts. On December 15th, Elizabeth's doctor had come to talk to him, touching his arm as he left Lizzie's room.

"Lizzy's condition is getting worse, Michael," she had murmured, gazing at him through spectacles. "The tumor's back and…  
"So?" he had questioned. "Can't we just operate, like before?"

She had swallowed. "We're going to try. It's just, I know how special she is to you. She's special to me, as well. Just... stay with her, all right?"

Such a silly request, Mike thought. It wasn't like there was anyone else in his life.


	40. Chapter 40

The day finally came. Naturally, the hospital director flatly refused letting Elizabeth leave, since it violated regulations. And so, naturally, Mike waited until the man had left the department, and snuck out.

"Wow," Mike called up to his sister, gazing around him. "You were right, this is amazing!"

She hugged his neck, piggybacking on his shoulder.

"Yeah," she murmured, her voice thin in the cold. "They're all so pretty."

The glittering trunks stood sentinel around them, branches festooned with glowing lights. Snow fell lightly as they walked, giggly Christmas couples striding past them.

"All right sis," he grinned, padding through the white powder. 'It's shopping time! We can go anywhere, pick out anything you like."

"S'nice," she murmured.

"And then once that's done, we'll go to dinner! You won't believe it, but guess what I got reservations for? We're going to have a full course dinner! They'll be appetizers, main courses, and dessert!"

Elizabeth nestled tighter around his neck. "'Mm." She was totally light, Mike could barely feel her weight on him.

Holiday lights gleamed on their road, as they walked on. Mike blinked the flakes out of eyelids before they could melt.

"Hey, Mike?" he heard his sister say.

He stopped. "Yeah? What is it?"

"I love you, Bro."

When they snuck back in that night, Mike laid a sleeping Lizzie into her bed. Slumping into his chair, he quickly fell asleep behind her.

On her way out, Doctor Espinoza paused at the door. Catching a glimpse of the siblings, she managed a smile. Thanks for giving this to her, she thought, thanks for giving her this experience.

One Lizzie's frost-clouded windowsill, her flower swayed. A petal fell.

"Are you sure you'll be all right, Michael? You still haven't even told me where you're going to!"

"It's no problem, Mrs. Fetters," he replied softly, drawing his single suitcase through the door. "I'll be fine."

The landlady's careworn face frowned. "Mike-" she protested, as he shut the door behind him.

He strode out into the street, another anchor cut. Empty trees passed him as he walked, devoid of covering. The concrete felt like it was biting him right through his boots.

She was the one who kept me alive, he realized. I cared for her, just for the pleasure of her gratitude, for the one true happiness in my day. How could I have been so selfish…

In the entirety of my life, she was the only who gave me any purpose, any _reason _to even keep moving. One young, sick girl had _enough life to share with another_. She spent all her time in that bed, fighting to survive, and I barely did _anything _for her! _How could I be so stupid!_

I hope she was happy. I know she got more out of this life than I ever did. Mike looked up; the cold winter sky gazed back.

And now I've lost her.

Mike felt the frozen air solidify around him. How could you take her, God, he seethed. How is this _justice_, how is this right?

Why couldn't you have taken me? She was able to do good dying of cancer, alone in a hospital, while I never even tried. It's not right, I should have been the one, _I'm barely even alive!_

Mike felt a tug, as his tears froze on his cheeks. It's not fair, he thought again, slumped.

Now I am nothing.

The sound of traffic hooked Mike's attention. He'd traveled far without noticing. He stopped, and looked down over the side of the bridge. The highway stretched below him, cars pelting along in blurs.

He felt his gaze drawn in by their motion. They seemed so close. Surely, it was only a short step away.

But as he moved to get a closer a look, a familiar sight caught his eye.

Lizzie's hospital stood before him, beyond the highway. His feet had carried to it automatically, trained by years of habit. He squinted, and stepped forward to the end of the bridge, there was something happening outside the building.

"Thank you so much!" the young boy squeaked, tugging on his father's hand. Mike recognized him immediately; it was the boy from down the hall. He had had a serious case of meningitis. Must have gotten better, Mike thought numbly.

"We're so grateful," the father communicated to the man standing next to them.

"It's not a problem," the doctor smiled. "It's what I do."

The couple walked off, the boy scooped to sit, safe on his father's shoulders.

Mike felt something rise in his throat. He swallowed, and then straightened up. Abruptly, he turned, and jogged away.

To Mike's surprise, he found that construction work was actually easy, if he worked at it. And once he put his mind to it, he could do much more then direct traffic.

After 4 months of helping plan traffic patterns, he got a raise. After another three months, they promoted him at the grocery store, to customer relations manager.

After that, he had enough to afford night school. Even for a medical degree.

Maybe, his life could have a purpose after all. The memory of his sister's smile never left him; her kind words only strengthened him. I want to do that, he thought. I want to live a life where I can save others.

Driving rain pounded the cars of the train. Mike happily ignored it, smiling down at the contents of his hand. His ticket to his entrance exam smiled back at him. He heard the rain fall away as the train entered a tunnel.

Soon, I'll be at my dream, he thought. It's so exciting! Soon, I'll actually be able to start helping people, to reach my goal, and my hope. Soon, I'll have a purp-

An ear-wrenching scream ripped through him as the brakes howled on. Mike and the other passengers were hurled into the air as a collision detonated around them, sending them into darkness.

The last thing Mike saw was his ticket, flying away from him.

The rain had stopped. Mike saw sunlight oozing from the window, illuminating his friend's horrified faces.

"M-Mike?" Winnie stuttered, her gaze locked on him. "Are you all right? I mean, did you get your memories? Pardon me for saying, but, well, judging from your reactions… They didn't sound very nice."

Albert opened his mouth. "Mike, I-"

"Please," Mike said softly, not looking up from the worn wooden table. "Could you guys give me some time? I just want to be alone for a bit."

Winnie nodded stiffly. She swept out, dragging a protesting Albert with her.

Mike felt the last vestiges of the trance sweep away. He slumped. His head felt like it was crawling with insects, his newfound memories bit into him.

I… was apathetic, and lived out of habit, he thought in disbelief. The one thing that kept me alive was my dying sister, and I never gave her back a _fraction _of the love I received.

The memory of Lizzie burned; his heart raced at the feeling of finally knowing her again, but broke once he remembered he had lost her.

He'd lost her. No, she'd been taken! The most innocent, loving child he'd ever known, put through incredible pain and suffering. _It wasn't fair_!

And then, somehow, he'd hung on. With the help of Lizzie's love, he'd tried again. He'd been given hope that he could have purpose.

Only to have his hope taken.

What kind of person would do that? What kind of person would play with him like that, just make one big joke out of his entire life? To God, his life had been _nothing._

Underneath the table, Mike's fist's clenched, his nails biting through his skin.

Winnie looked up as footsteps drew near, and Mike appeared at her shoulder. She made space for him at the roof's railing, as the afterlife's sun began to set.

"How'd you know to find me here?" she asked cautiously.

He leaned over the rail. "You always come here when you're not sure where else to go," he told her quietly.

She was silent for a moment as she processed his observation. "Oh…"

She fiddled around with a button on her coat. "So… about your memories. Do you still want to, you know, work with us? Do you still want to be in the Battlefront? Because if you don't-"

"Winnie," Mike interrupted, turning to meet her. "I'm not leaving you guys."

She blinked. "Oh. You mean…"

"Now I understand what the Battlefront fights for. It fights because God made our world cruel. He made us live lives of pain, lives without purpose. I want to fight with you, against him."

She straightened. "Right! Of course! Well, don't you worry, Mr. Muttonhead. Under my leadership, we shall soon be victorious."

It was Mike's turned to blink. "Wait, Mr. Muttonhead, what's that-"

He trailed off in surprise as Fred suddenly embraced him.

'Hey, she said. "For a bit, I thought we were going to lose you. I'm glad you're staying with us."

After a bit, he replied. "I am too."

Then, after a pause. "Hey, Mr. Muttonhead was a joke, right? I mean, that's not going to become a regular thing, ok? Because…"


	41. Chapter 41

The computer screen blinked to life. Captured in its ominous glow was the scene of Principal's office. Battlefront members moved back and forth on the monitor.

That computer's light was one of many, creating a dim, ghostly sheen of artificial light in the room. From every screen a different view was visible: a busy hallway, laughing students on the track, the empty principal's office. A screen displayed spiraling green programming scrolling across the black background.

Something moved in the unclear illumination. A figure, neither short nor tall, not fat nor thin. The figure drew near the screen showing the assembly, and paused, details masked by the shadows. Something moved, and a mouse began to click, the minute sounds the only disturbance of the total silence.

The output was becoming more then troubling. The output was approaching unacceptable.

In the distance, a tremor shook through the earth, causing the room's monitors to shudder slightly. Computers quaked. Osiris didn't shift.

In recent days, he sometimes thought the shakes intensity was increasing. But considering their source, that was illogical. And therefore, impossible.

Osiris was quite displeased with the Battlefront. As the organization had grown in size, his displeasure had increased accordingly. The Battlefront had begun to exhibit exactly what he had been placed here to prevent.

But then, there was the being known as Angel. Thanks to the conflict between it and the Battlefront, balance had been maintained, and Osiris was able to rest.

Another quake rumbled under him, he didn't blink. To his right, a glowing screen dipped down a degree. A pearly white appendage reached out, and restored it to perfection.

But now, stimulus had created an irregularity. Some other entity had arrived on the plane, and since that point, order had deteriorated. The balance between the Battlefront and Angel had been lost, and the attempt to remedy the issue had similarly failed. All of because of the same, encroaching threat.

The virus. Every day that passed, its hold on this world grew firmer. He was called by the syntax of his creation to destroy it, to preserve this world. So it had been ordained, by his maker. The Creator.

_B: And Men_

"Fred, I'm hungry," Luke whined.

"We haven't completed an Operation tornado in several days," Elliot noted. "Food-money is becoming dangerously low."

"We wouldn't be out if you guys didn't pig out all the time," Julie nagged. "If you're not careful, you'll all get really _fat_. You'll get bloated, and you'll thighs will blow up like balloons-"

"I bet you've had a lot of experience with that," Harry crowed. "Hehe-HACK-" his laughter was interrupted by the sudden attempt of a pillow to force its way down his throat.

"Easy, you two," Richie chastised, gently lifting Julie away from Harry's heaving form. "Lack of food is no laughing matter."

Grumbling to herself, Winnie brought up their mission-program on the projector. Mike smiled at her. It was so nice being back with all of the Battlefront, like waking from a bad dream. Now, he could clearly remember what it had been like back when he was alive. It had been a struggle to talk to anyone, to get to know anybody, simply because he hadn't cared enough to go through the trouble. Getting to know people was hard.

But know, he couldn't image _not _taking the trouble to get to know all the people around him. They were amazing, slightly exuberant, but they were his _friends. _What had changed? He was still the same person, wasn't he?

As the projector blinked on, Mike looked at his hands. He didn't feel apathetic. Honestly, apathy just sounded really boring.

"All right, chumps," Fred barked. "Change of plans. Today, we execute Operation: Monster Stream." Behind her, the screen flashed the title.

"Monster stream!" came the gasp.

"Look'en at all the lonely people, man," TK whistled.

Mike gulped. M-monster stream? "Wait, hold on! You mean, _this world has monsters!" _he whimpered. His imagination immediately supplied with a sufficiently disturbing image of toothy, vicious looking creature. At least that part of him hadn't changed.

"Indeed," Elly solemnly replied.

"Oh, totally," Julie sniped, glaring at Harry.

Harry ignored her. "In Monster Stream, we go down to the river to collect food."

"But that's…" Mike blinked. "But… that's fishing."

"Yep. Got a problem with that?"

One of these days, Mike seethed to himself. One of these days, I'm not going to let them carry me away like that, and I am going to be cool and reserved. And I won't imagine something stupid.

"Two tickets to paradise, dude!"

"You're certainly happy," Emmanuel observed wryly. "You have a good breakfast, or something?"

TK only danced happily. Hoping up, he slid down the stair's railing, chuckling in appreciation.

The rest of the Battlefront's combat division trooped down the stairs after him. The concrete groaned and stretched beneath them as it warmed up, insects buzzing from spot to spot. The gymnasium cast a shadow over the tree's to their left, leaving the leaves a dark green.

"Hey, has anyone seen Hannah?" Luke asked, looking around. He glanced up at the building roofs above them, as if Hannah might at any moment swoop down on them.

Julie frowned. "Maybe she's sleeping? Honestly, that's what I think she's up to when she disappears like this. Taking cat naps!" With a loud snore, she began to mimic the action.

Winnie strode ahead of the group, hands behind her back as she marched. "Actually," she called back in a serious tone. "Hannah is out on a special mission. There's a very important task I asked her to complete. She-"

"Fred, you know you're really cute when you act all serious like that," Harry smiled from beside her. "Like one of those chicks from James Bond, only not as tall-"

The noon day sun shimmered down on the company as they left behind the last school building and started through the gardens. Harry rubbed his bruised shoulder, muttering something about ingratitude.

Richie the fifth was informing them about the various types of fish in the school's river, and which went best with butter and lemons, when Mike stopped. He squinted, seeing a shimmer of white moving out among the rows of basil and mint. He started as he recognized the shape, and broke away from the group. They slowed as he left, looking after him in confusion. They only came to a shuddering, total halt when they saw his destination.

Mike came within a few feet from Angel. Then he stopped, and swallowed.

Kneeling, her shoulders were buried in the twisting leaves of the flower bed. A straw sun hat winked back at him, perched on her head. After a few moments, she paused. With one fluid motion, she stood up, brushing off her hands on an apron.

Angel appraised him for a moment. Her face was barely visible under the visor of her hat. "Hello, Mr. Carter," she spoke. She glanced behind him at the rest of the Battlefront, gaping at her in various degrees of horror. "And your friends? Are they all alright? There is no more danger?"

"Oh-no, Mrs. Robinson!" he stammered. "No, we're fine. We've sorted it all out; the new Student Body President is actually a human, just like us. We're all really thankful for everything you did to help. Aren't we guys?" he called back. They gaped back at him in disbelief.

Mike grimaced, and scratched the back of his neck. "So, what are you up to? You know, now that you don't have to run the council anymore."

She held the trowel in her hand up to the light. "I am working for the gardening club. The garden needed to be weeded."

All by yourself, Mike thought. That isn't fair! "But, wait," he protested. "Isn't weeding, like really tough? I mean, you get thorns in your hands, and dirt gets everywhere, and well… I suppose you being the way you are, little things like thorns wouldn't be able to harm you. But still, you shouldn't have to… I mean, you shouldn't be here, all a…"

He trailed off. Angel stared at him blankly. Her brow creased.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," she said eventually.

Mike nervously toed a vine. He had to do something. Even angels could get lonely. "Well, look… Wanna come with us? We're going fishing, at the river. I'd love it if you came along."

Angel blinked. "The river? But, the river is out of bounds to students. It is dangerous."

"Aw, don't worry! You're not on the student council anymore, remember? It's fine to just relax, and go and have fun once in a while."

"But I am still a student, and the river is out of-" Angel began to protest, when Mike leaned forward to catch her wrist. "Come on," he smiled, and pulled her off with him.

At the arrival of their enemy, The Battlefront immediately shifted into a defensive formation. TK, Richie, Jake and Emmanuel formed a defensive line, their weapons gleaming in readiness. Behind the bristly wall of blades, the others popped up, guns gleaming nervously. Julie was having a panic attack at the rear.

Winnie stood in front of the group, pistol trained on Angel's forehead. "Mike, get over here," she hissed. "I don't want to have to clean you up off of the path."

Aw, geez… Mike nudged Angel for reassurance, but she didn't seem overly concerned. In one motion, she blinked. Clumps of weapons tittered with her movement.

"Come on guys, calm down," Mike said quickly. "This isn't necessary! Look, I'm still alive. She isn't going to hurt anyone."

"What if it's a trap?" Richie's nervous voice rang out from the huddle. "She's using you as some kind of twisted bait, and the moment we get to close…. ZAP!" The others nodded in rapt agreement.

Mike knuckled his forehead. "Have you forgotten that she saved all of our butts, back when Albert tried to depress us to death? No offence Albert."

"Um…" the new Student Body President muttered.

Winnie narrowed her eyes. "That's just because she was trying to maintain order." She glared across the path at the shorter girl, her lips curling in fury. Mike wasn't sure, but he thought he felt Angel shudder beside him. "We can't trust her, Mike. Because of who she is, and what she represents."

Mike swallowed. "I understand that. But… I think she's lonely. She's different from us, so what? What's wrong with her going fishing?"


	42. Chapter 42

Hannah stole along, the dust undisturbed by her silent tread. The walls of the guild tunnels flew past her as she sprinted. Her shadow danced along the walls, illuminated by the lantern light.

The complex of the Guild was incredibly extensive. Truthfully, while the Battlefront liked to claim in as their domain, its reaches were known to none of them. The tunnels had existed under Elihu the Young Acadamy when they had arrived, a vast network running in all directions. Anything could be hidden, deep in the earth.

Left, Hannah felt, and she darted down a side tunnel. The stiff concrete was gradually replaced by cool stone, encompassing her.

The Battlefront was faced with an unpleasant mystery. Some form of entity had supplied Albert with the tools he had used to stage his uprising. The Battlefront had an enemy. Some being possessed powers beyond their knowledge, as well as advanced knowledge of this world.

Hannah grit her teeth. There was one obvious suspect. It seemed, at long last, this world's creator was making his presence known.

With her every footfall, she felt the ground beneath her. Her senses, trained to their limits, listened through the ground, and heard. Hannah heard vibrations, distant motions sending small shudders through the earth. She-

With a gasp, Hannah came to an immediate halt. Dropping to her knees, she pressed her palms into the rock. A tremor, greater then she had ever felt, raced up her arms, sending her hair on end.

And, barely decipherable, with that tremor came…

The Battlefront walked in one, dense pod, casting glances over their shoulders as they wound down the hill to the river. Mike walked a few paces behind them, and a few paces in front of Angel. After every other step, he'd glance back at her, to make sure she hadn't slipped away.

"Um, hey," Mike spoke up suddenly. "I just realized, how are we going to fish? All we brought was our weapons. Don't we need tackle and bait?"

Winnie didn't look back at him. "It has all been provided for."

Sure enough, at the river's banks waited a loaded cart, stacked with poles. A sun-burned guild member was just finished unloading the bait as they arrived.

He straightened up, flashing them a confident grin.

"Everyone, you remember Saito," Winnie introduced. "He's the Fishing Maniac."

"The Fishing Maniac?" Mike wondered. "What in the world is a Fishing Maniac? And how the heck is this guy tan, the guild is underground!"

The Fishing Maniac strode up to his interrogator. Sea-blue eyes gazed out from beneath a battered cap, one stuck with a menagerie of lures. His lean arms crossed. "I am Saito Windfellow. The motion of the waters flows in my veins, the call of its inhabitants sings in my soul. Yeah, I'm in the guild. I know how to create tools of value."

He spat in the dirt. "I can make and use the highest quality instruments for the art of fishing that you will ever set eyes on. My life is dedicated to this sport."

"Whoa,' Luke breathed.

"So, he's basically another moron," Julie whispered.

"I…" Saito began to continue, then trialed off. His lips froze as he caught a glimpse of the figure standing at the periphery of the crowd.

"Angel!" he gasped, pointing at the intruder. "What, what the hell is going on?  
Winnie crossed her arms. "Beats me. _It _followed us here. We haven't been attacked though."

"Yet," Jake muttered, aiming his halberd at the girl.

Saito frowned at his nemesis. He swallowed. "Um, Mrs. Angel… What is your purpose here?"

"I am here to fish."

"Oh. Well that's all right, then."

Several minutes later, the poles and tackle had been distributed, and the Battlefront was strewn across the rolling riverbank.

Through unspoken movements, they set up a good distance from the former Student Body President. Mike glanced around; Angel was just standing, gazing into the clear blue waters. With a groan, he stepped out to her.

"So… do you know how to fish?" he asked cautiously, twisting the line between his fingers as he reached her shoulder.

"No," he heard her utter. "I don't believe I ever got the chance."

Mike snorted. "What? I thought everyone at least knew that! Come on, it's easy. I'll show you."

He handed her a slender wooden pole, and carefully handed her the hook, and the wriggling worm.

"Right, first you have to hook the worm. You stick the pointy bit through one end, wrap the worm around the metal, hook it again, then wrap and hook it again. Careful, it's pretty nasty, always grossed me out. If you want, I-"

"Done," she said, holding up the baited hook.

Mike blinked. "I, I mean…Uh, don't worms and stuff gross you out?"

She regarded it. "It would not seem so. And besides, I do not know if these invertebrates possess a sufficient nervous system to fully expense the pain of severance."

"Uh. I don't really know either."

Mike fidgeted. She wasn't exactly the easiest person to talk to. I guess she just doesn't really have much experience being with people.

He glanced over at her. He knew she had enough power to take out most of them, if she wanted. But, why didn't he feel frightened anymore? How come, whenever he was around her, he felt safe?

"Um, OK. Next up, you grab the line with one hand. Then, you carefully flick the pole toward the water-"

A howl broke out as Angel suddenly followed Mike's instructions. A terrified Harry tumbled through the air, a small hook seen around his shirt collar. Mike flinched as his friend slammed into the river.

"Hey-blub-blub, you crazy!" Harry bawled, breaking the surface. "Watch-blub-blub-where you're casting!

"How'd you do that?" Mike asked, gazing at her in awe.

"My Overdrive Guardskill is in passive mode," Angel replied, her brow creasing. "It enables increased capacity of strength. Do not worry; I will free him from the river. Swimming is dangerous."

A dog-paddling Harry's face turned pale. "Wait, no-blub-blub, I'll just swim, I-"

Harry catapulted out of the surf at the tug of Angel's pole, coming to a stop face-first in the sand.

"Gramph-Grafflesplah!" Harry mumbled venomously, spitting out sand.

"Harry, you all right?" Mike worried, helping him up.

The other members of the Battlefront gazed at their comrade tensely as he replied. "Mmph. Not cool, man. I-"

"That was my error," Angel spoke suddenly. "I should have been more vigilant, I apologize for my negligence." She stepped forward, her hand reaching towards Harry's face. "I f you wish, I can use a technique to remove the sand."

Harry coughed. "No, that's fine. It's definitely not the first time I'm gone flying." He trailed off, gazing at Angel's face. Something caused him to soften. "It's fine, I'm all right. You just need to watch your strength, got it chica?"

Angel nodded solemnly.

"All right everyone, let's get going!" Winnie called sharply. "This is all you guys will be getting to eat, so get it in gear!"

With Mike's guidance, and Harry jokingly ensuring that no one was in a 50 yard radius, Angel cast out again.

They waited for minutes on end. Around them, someone would occasionally think they had a bite, but it would always end up fruitless.

"What's going on," Winnie grumbled, turning to Saito."We're not _that bad_ at fishing!"

But the Fishing Maniac said nothing. He just gazed out over the river, a shadow crossing his face as his jaw tightened.

Mike didn't mind though. He plopped down in the sand next to Angel, letting the river run over his bare toes.

"So, Miss Robinson, now that you don't have to watch over the school anymore, I guess you have a lot of free time, right?"

"Our time is mean to be invested in our studies," Angel reprimanded.

"Will you two quit," Jake growled. "You must be what's scaring the fish away."

"Actually," Elly replied from down the riverbank. "I have examined the handbook of Elihu the Young Academy. Certainly, as a school, it has the usual schedule of classes. History, Math, English, as well as Gym, Art, and music classes. However, equally stressed by the school is the importance of involvement in other activities. This school is flooded with clubs; there are hiking trails, sport tournaments, and social events."

Elly glanced at Angel coolly. "It would seem that the creator of this place made it to be a paradise for youths. Almost as if the purpose was to mold people through order. To take rebellious spirits, and make them obedient, "normal." Would you say that is accurate?"

Angel was silent for a moment. "This is a school. The purpose is for its students to learn."

"Whoa!" Luke yelled, standing up. "Miss Robinson, your line!"

With a snap, the wire plunged into the deep water. Mike watched in shock as Angel's pole was bent in half.

"Let go of it!" Saito gasped, running up to her. "_It's him! Quick, before he pulls you in!"_


	43. Chapter 43

The rest of the Battlefront gasped. The line snapped violently, the air twanging as the line was plunged further into the water. With a roar, the water around the line began to thrash, a devouring whirlpool sped around the wire as it twitched and tossed.

With a grind, Angel's heels sunk into the ground as she weathered the tremendous blow. The pole quivered with energy as Angel was gradually drug toward the water.

Saito gaped. "I don't believe it. This chic could pull it off. She could reel in the Master!"

"What are you talking about?" yelled Michael over the roar of the river's struggle.

"What do you think? The Master of the River, the monster that gives the operation its name! Now hurry and stop her, before she's dragged into the river with him!"

Mouth dropping in alarm, Mike turned to grab a-hold of Angel. He furiously began pulling her back against the tug toward the churning water.

He felt Saito join him, locking arms around his shoulders.

"Won't the pole break?" Mike asked through gritted teeth.

"Don't question my handywork!" The Fishing Maniac barked. Then, "Get over here, you fools! Hurry!"

There was a pause of indecision. The Battlefront looked at each other.

Except for Harry. He stumbled over, and locked arms around Saito.

Julie danced over to him as he grunted in labor. "Say, upperclassman!" she chimed. "You're wide open for a kick in the shins right now, you know."

"_Quit mess'en around!"_

There was a movement. "Food is on the line," Richie the fifth rumbled, and trooped over. Luke joined in as well.

Elly glanced at his feet. "Well… I suppose it's only logical that we attempt to deter this threat, regardless of those we must associate with. My muscles shall do their service." His shirt fluttered to the floor as he strode over, Jake, Emmanuel, and Leonard following to join the chain.

"Pull!" Mike grunted, feet scrabbling for purchase. He felt Angel tremble in his arms, as the Battlefront surged backwards.

"Pull! Come on, Pull!" Julie cheered from beside them, jumping up and down supportively.

But, it wasn't enough. Their strength was nothing compared to the beast they were up against, and with every thrash, Mike felt the lot of them draw closer to flying into the water.

"Ah, man," Emmanuel cursed. "Looks like the end of the line."

Mike clenches his eyes shut, just as he heard a murmur.

"No. I must protect them."

His eyes flung open in time to witness Angel crouch, and then spring up.

With yowls of surprise, the Battlefront chain was flung hurtling into the air. Mike's heart raced, and then stopped as he looked below them.

The Master of the River had been torn from his domain by Angel, and rose up with them, mouth gaping below them. The monstrous catfish was roughly the size of medium sized house, but then Mike saw its dark-scaled tale flip and frantically doubled his estimate. Beach ball eyes stared blindly out, while whipping whiskers enveloped the sucking cavern of its maw.

Mike felt his throat tighten as all around him his friends expressed their displeasure at being flung into the air.

Luke-We caught it!

Elly-It caught us!

TK-Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.

Richie-The clouds really do look like cotton candy from up here.

Albert-You are all savages!

After a few seconds, their momentum ran out. Exchanging shocked glances, they crested, and then began to fall, inevitably, right into the Monster's mouth.

Emmanuel-Well, sh**.

Harry- This is ironic.

Albert-We're all about to die, you morons!

Leonard- This is why I hate fishing…

The Battlefront yelled franticly, closing their eyes in horror as the dreadful maw raced closer. Falling beside them, Emily set her gaze upon the fish.

I cannot allow this, they will be hurt. I must protect them.

"_Guardskill: Harmonics."_

Mike's retina's stung from the flash of light that followed. Blinking, he barely made out the form of Angel twist, and suddenly distort. He saw a shape suddenly break off. It sprung off of Angel, flashing down to the beast in an arc of lightning.

In awe, he witnessed the form strike the Master of the River. The sound of metal against flesh rang out, and the beast roared.

Before their astonished gaze, the Master broke apart, rent into slivers. The slivers trembled, and fell back to the ground, as the Battlefront splashed down into the river.

Winnie walked up to them as they crawled from the riverbed, shaking off the water with dazed glances. "Wow," she said dryly, crossing her arms.

Saito stumbled up to his old foe, jaw trembling. He gazed at the slivers of fish. Then he turned, and, gazing at Angel, tipped his hat.


	44. Chapter 44

"We're not going to need to eat at the cafeteria for a while," Harry observed wryly, looking at the mountain of meet.

"Wait, we're going to have to eat _all of it?_ For how long?"

"Well, it would be a shame to waste it…"

Leonard frowned. "That is not an option. I do not believe the school possesses enough freezers to preserve this much meat."

They paused, gaping at the fish in silence. A piece of tail slid down to the ground, scales rippling feebily.

"How about this?" Mike proposed. "There's no way we can eat it all by ourselves. Why don't we clean it, cook it up, and serve it to all the other students! You know, like a fish fry. It would be fun!"

The rest of the Battlefront exchanged nonplussed glances. They looked towards Winifred.

Their leader stared Mike down, he shrunk under her glare. Then she shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. It's your food; I really don't care-Ah! Hannah! Where'd you come from… I mean, what you have to report?

Casting furtive glances around her, the dark clothed girl drew her leader away from the group. They began to speak in quiet tones.

No one noticed, however. They were far too busy running off to get the fish fry prepared.

"Could you get us some tables and other supplies, Miss Former Student Body President?" Luke asked in awe. "We could have our cookout on the front field!"

She nodded stiffly as they ascended the hill. "I will try to help."

In short order, they had obtained some tables, and liberated further supplies from the bemused cafeteria ladies. A pile of textbooks was gleefully set alight by Emmanuel while Angel was occupied with setting up the tables, and a number of saucepans were put in place over the bonfire. Normal students began to trickle down, chatting and filling their plates. With sleeves rolled up, they set to the food, slicing and dicing tomatoes, peppers and unions, and occasionally sending Luke back with Saito's wagon to get more fish. Richie the fifth presides as master of the stir-fry, barking out orders as a multitude of pans flipped.

"Anyone seen Fred?"

"Aw, she left with Hannah. Figures that she'd vanish."

"I don't get it," Jake grumbled. "Aren't we supposed to be the rebels? Why the hell are we serving these guys? It's almost like charity work."

"I don't mind," Harry replied, sneaking a bite. "It's not like we have anything else to do; now that Angel's just standing over there, doing dishes with Mike."

"I wonder," Elly began. "Are we in danger of obliteration? We're not fighting Angel anymore, and we're helping out the students. If we don't fight Angel, will we be able to stay here?"

Harry paused. "I don't know. Not fighting Angel is weird, but I still feel the same as before, you know? Like something hasn't been settled, like I just need to get back at someone."

"I'd just like to point out that we still can't trust out that _girl_," Emm pointed out darkly. "For all we know, she could setting up some kind off twisted, diabolical trap."

With murmurs of agreement, they gave the petite person glances of deep suspicion and mistrust.

But Mike and Angel were caught in their dishes.

"It seems to me like the gardening club is just really lazy," Mike was saying. "You're always doing the tough work! I mean, it's really not fair."

Angel was silent for a moment, doggedly sweeping her rag over the juice-stained plate. "I do not mind," she finally replied. "I love being in the garden. Weeds do not bother me, weeding is necessary."

She appraised her work, lifting the plate up to catch the sun. "Besides, work is my responsibility. There is so much that I have to repay. I owe it."

Mike frowned. "What, do you owe the gardening club something?"

Angel shook her head slightly.

"Then I don't get it. Though I guess If you love it, then you don't need a reason." He made a funny face as he put his elbow into the plate, working at a tough stain. He glanced over to see her reaction. Her eyes had widened in confusion.

"Mr. Carter, are you all right?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine." Huh, her hands are getting all pruny and wrinkled, just like mine do in the bath! I didn't know that happened to angels. He swallowed.

"You know, Miss Robinson, I don't think you should feel like you owe anyone anything, all right? You're totally free here. You don't have to follow anyone; you can make your own decision. No matter who you are, no matter what you are!"

She blinked. "What a silly thing to say. Sometimes you say the strangest things, Mr. Carter."

Ugh… Foiled again by his underdeveloped social skills.

They worked in silence for several more minutes. The sun worked its way to the horizon, casting a bronze glow over the students. As they reached the end of the Master's final gift, fish-filled NPC's plopped down onto the grass, groaning in contentment.

"You know, you don't say much," he said eventually.

"Mm-hmm," she agreed, cleaning happily.

He sighed in acceptance. "All right… just one more thing." He hesitated. "Do you mind I just call you Emily? Former-Student Body President is ridiculous, and no one really calls someone their age by their last name..."

"My first name?"

"Yeah! And, well, I like it. Emily is a really pretty name. It's really simple, but… I really like it, though."

He could not see her face. "You may call me so if you wish."

His face glowed. "Thanks. You can call me Michael … hey, Emily?"

"Yes?"

"You know, you don't have to worry about being alone anymore, all right? I'm not afraid of you. Occasionally freaked out, yeah, but that's normal. The point is, I'm going to stay by you. I won't let you get hurt. Got that?"

Emily was silent. For a moment, he thought he saw something familiar pass through her face.

"I do not know if I will ever quite understand you, Mr. Carter. But I have 'got it.'"

It took a while longer to finish the dishes. By the time they had finished night had arrived; they trooped back to the cafeteria with the dishes in darkness.

"Oof," Luke grunted in contentment. "Monsters sure do well in stir fries. Especially with ketchup. Maybe we-"

They slowed, brows furrowing at the impossible sight before them.

A section of the cafeteria's garden was shaking. Flowers tossed violently as the ground abruptly swung up, a dark hole gaping up at them.

Hannah sprung out of the hole. The moment she landed on its lip she reached back down into the darkness. "Hurry," she cried, her face shining with sweat. "She's right behind you!"

All at once, two forms flew out of the tunnel. As Hannah hoisted Winnie's dark figure out through the door, a blurred white shape flew after her, rolling above the girls to land beside them.

The moment it landed, the figure struck. Glistening steel flew forward, Hannah and Winnie tumbling backward to avoid the attack. Teeth gritted, Hannah tore back at the aggressor, her twin knives parrying the thrusts.

Winnie moved forward to help, but her foot caught on one of the discarded plants. As she fell forward, the white figure surged.

Mike started forward as those behind him hastily fumbled with their weapons, but slowed. The figure had been halted. The attacker's blade was held inches from Winnie's sprawled chest. Hannah had enveloped the figure, encircling it with strong arms, trembling as she strained to restrain it.

"Fred…moron…get back."

"_Guardskill: hand sonic." _Before anyone could react, a second blade shone onto the figure's hand, flashed, and cut Hannah down.

As Winnie stumbled away, the Battlefront gazed at the pale being in terror. Angel gazed back passively, flicking the liquid from her weapon.

Mike's head buzzed in incomprehension. He glanced down at his side. Emily still stood beside him, clutching a stack of plates.

Mike saw the armed Angel turn toward Winnie.

"Everyone, get ready!" he shouted. "Quick, make a semicircle around her, and bombard her. We have to slow her down!" Out of their daze of shock, his friends complied, rushing to their positions as their long experience reasserted itself.

"_Guardskill: Distortion_"

Gun flashes lit up the night as the assortment of weapons slammed into the Angel. The ammunition was sent flying all around by her shield, but the force held her in place.

But only for a moment. As Winnie took the opportunity to return back toward her team, the Angel started toward them, her pristine uniform soaked in gore.

"_You are not permitted to be out this late, students. You must be punished."_

Then the creature did something that made Mike's blood freeze in his veins. The Angel smiled. Drool dripping, her teeth-filled mouth curved in a horrific grin. As she took another step forward, her eyes seemed to bulge forward.

"_All punishment is necessary for the will of the Creator." _The Angel giggled, her shoulders heaving_. "He shall receive a tribute of blood!"_

Mike heard a curse behind him as Richie's semi auto began to click, rum empty.

"_The Virus must be cleansed; it is my duty to the school." _The Angel's eyes narrowed and she crouched in preparation.

Mike felt a breeze at his elbow. He heard the plates shatter against the ground as Emily flew forward, her blade outstretched. Like mirror images, the other's blade moved to match its sister's, and then, the two images connected.

The blades met home. The two Angels stopped, and slumped to the ground.

**A/N End of Mission Seven. And now we start one of my favorite parts of the series. I've never understood how Angel Beats could be silly and serious at the same time, but they somehow pull it off. And seriousness is definently inevitable… Thanks again everyone. Your feedback keeps me chugging, especially that one individual. You know who you are. Here's hoping for spring. **


	45. Chapter 45

Osiris's spindly fingers worked the keys. The data he was receiving was most satisfactory. The Hands were proceeding with their programmed function quite effectively. Soon, the virus would be contained.

And just in time. In the wake of the destruction of the river's guardian, the disease's presence had spiked. But then, there had been the incident with the intruders….

Abruptly, another rumble rocked through the lair. Osiris straightened up. His tall frame slipped between the draped cords and monitors as he ducked through a doorframe.

He gazed out into the pit beyond. Another sound rushed past him, a bone-wrenching roar, screamed from below.

Osiris heard the thrashing of chains as he gazed below him. Abruptly, the sound ceased. Two piercing, yellow coals burned up at him, and Osiris glimpsed the flash of teeth.

"Patience, my friend," the servant called softly. "I will not allow our master's world to be so defiled. The virus will be stamped out. _Our creator will be satisfied_."

Mike stared, stricken, at the figure in front of him.

Emily lay flat in the hospital bed, eyes shut. Exhibiting a surprisingly strong stomach, Julie had replaced her gore-stained uniform with a nightgown.

The Battlefront was crowded around their enemy's bed. Luke chewed his pinky nail nervously. Elly's penetrating gaze bore into Angel's prone form. Richie slurped his noodles.

"Ok, what the hell happened?" Emmanuel said finally, crouched on the bed next to Angel. "Fred, care to explain just who that chick is?" he jerked his thumb at the figure splayed out on Angel's other side."And, what were you and Hannah were doing down in the Guild?"

Winnie inclined her head. "I'm sorry that I didn't inform you all of our movement. I just thought we could handle it alone. Obviously, I was wrong.

"Hannah and I just went down to look around. Yesterday, I sent Hannah to investigate the tunnels on a hunch. She heard this kind off rumble-"

"It wasn't a rumble. Something roared, deep below us."

They looked up at Hannah in unconcealed shock. She stood among them; her cheeks were flushed, but beside that she seemed fine.

"Hannah…" Luke whispered in awe. "How are you…"

She paused. "I've trained my regeneration. It was just a matter of prioritizing the order of reformation. My lungs and heart reform first, allowing my return to consciousness and basic functioning. My bowels are healing as we speak."

Richie put down his noodles.

Winnie eventually managed to nod. "Uh, yes. Anyways, we were investigating in the Guild to try and find whatever, or whoever, had supplied Albert with his cannon. Hannah had, well, "sensed" some roaring by the southern end of the tunnels, and we were headed over there, when… we were ambushed."

"She took us by surprise," Hannah said, shamed. "Angel usually never attacks unless we strike first."

Winnie agreed. "But, this _other _Angel just came at us, flying out of the dark. Thankfully, I knew a shortcut out, and you guys showed up to help. Thank you all, by the way. And Hannah, you… well, you know."

Hannah clutched her side with a wince, and nodded.

"Okay, that's all very well and good," Albert broke in, his tone sick with tension. "But just _what is _that girl? She attacks without provocation. It was almost like she enjoyed it!"

"Wait; is there more than one big, scary angel in with world? Because I'm scared enough as it is," Julie whimpered.

"Everybody calm down," Winnie interrupted. "I know where she came from. Do you recall our venture to Angel's computer, and the program known as Angel Player?" One of it's applications was called _Harmonics._ Its function is to directly create a _double _of Angel. However, Angel seems to have rarely used it, I suppose she saves it for extreme situations.

Mike started. That moment, hurtling toward the fish's mouth.

Leonard pushed his way forward. "The problem is, the harmonics capability is only meant to function temporarily, before the clone is assimilated by another Guardskill, _absorb_."

"But this wasn't a copy!" Harry protested, running a hand through is hair. "I mean, it was _bloodthirsty_. And besides, Angel couldn't use absorb on it. Otherwise, she wouldn't of, you know…"

Winnie nodded, her face dark. "I know. I'm still not sure what caused them to fight. It would seem something has gone very wrong with Angel."

For a moment, they stared at the sleeping angel in silence.

"If God has control over his Angel, then how could this happen to her?" Harry asked silently.

Winnie grit her teeth. 'I don't know. Though I suppose... it is possible, that the creation of this new, violent servant was part of his plan. Perhaps, he intends to make a replacement."

Harry glanced at the new Angel solemnly. "What should we call her? Thing number two?"

"I've got one," Ely replied coldly. "How about Fallen Angel?"

Luke swallowed. "But… don't fallen angels work for the Devil? As, you know… Demons?"

"I think we know by now there is no devil. There's no need for one. But a demon… I think that fits her perfectly."

Julie sat down forcibly.

"Winnie, what do we do?" Emm asked wearily. "This 'Fallen Angel' is going to be waking up soon and it looks like she's fully inherited Angel's desire to make us 'follow the rules'. We could all…"

They look so worried, Winnie thought. And they're all looking at me, like I have the answer; like I'm not just as scared.

"Just give me some time. Leonard, come with me, I've got a job for you."

"Affirmative. But please, call me Chr-"

"How can we give you time?" Harry protested.

She turned toward her old friend. "Just got to classes. Don't actually pay attention, or you risk obliteration. However, look like you _are. _All right guys, I trust you. We'll meet up tonight."

"You all right man," Harry whispered, bumping Mike as the others filed out. "You haven't said anything."

Mike just stared down at Emily, eyes wide. He had promised her.

The teachers at Elihu the Young Acadamy had a very pleasant surprise that day. For once, those lamentable hooligans seemed tamed, actually peaceably attending classes.

The Battlefront let the teachers have their moment.

Emmanuel's pencil was hard at work-through the course of History he soon managed to doodle a Yankee uniform on each and every portrait in his textbook. In English, Bridget completed a complex and detailed scenario map of what would occur if overweight Italians invaded New York City. Luke made paper airplanes. Mike tried to launch Luke's paper airplanes, only to have each missile shot down by a precision paper-clip strike from Hannah.

Julie smiled and nodded whenever the teacher glanced her way. Richie the fifth had donned some sunglasses, and snored peacefully. Jess's hands worked away under her desk, making a guitar out of rubber bands and a tissue box.

Out of the blue, Harry did something unprecedented. He raised his hand.

Mrs. Spicer raised her eyebrow as she recognized him. "Yes, sir?" she asked reluctantly.

"When do we get to the part with Abraham Lincoln beating up vampires?"

She reached into her desk, and withdrew a tall cone. "Get up here."

Miserably, Harry trailed to the front, and donned the dunce cap. At her direction, he slumped over to the corner.

"Okay, look. Here's the app, Absorb. Why isn't it working?"

Leonard glanced around the dorm room nervously. "You know, Mrs. Fred, I'm still not quite, comfortable, with intruding in this domain. I mean, it is a girls' room."

"No, it's not. Angel is an _it_, remember that. Now come and look at this."

Leonard hesitantly leaned over the desk, gazing into the program's code. His eyes suddenly narrowed as something caught his attention.

"Wait. Look at that-beneath that integer, the source of that portion has been tampered. And after that… It's all been…

"This application is corrupted! Someone has altered it…"

Winnie's fingers rapped the desk. "What does that even mean?"

"I am not entirely sure. This program is exceptionally detailed. Maybe… aha!"

With trembling fingertips, Leonard withdrew an item from behind the computer. He flipped the massive book open. "The manual! Now, if could just examine-"

Winnie slapped it out of his hands. 'Moron, don't you know that no one reads manuals! Besides, we don't have enough time. We have to hurry.

"If the program's been mixed up, we'll just fix it so it makes sense. Can you put in a trigger, so that when Angel uses Harmonics, Absorb will activate right after?"

Furious typing was the reply. Leonard quickly finished.

"There you are, Mrs. Fred. Application Absorb is now triggered to resolves after ten seconds, trigged by Harmonics. And, now!"

A timer opened. 10. 9. 8.

They watched in silence. Winnie fidgeted impatiently. Ten seconds is really a long time when you're busy. Grr, wish he'd just set it 3.

1. 0. Abruptly, between the blue boxes of the Harmonics and Absorb applications a third box formed… Inside it, the words "Time Lag" flashed.

"Finished," Leonard sighed, massively relieved. "Now the next time our divine associate uses Harmonics, it will be good-bye Fallen Angel. Now, we-'

He paused, and frowned. He scrolled up the list of applications.

"Hand sonic, Harmonics, Time lag, Absorb, Return, Delay, Distortion, Overdrive… Howling?" she read. What the heck is that?" They read the description, and two pairs of eyes widened.

"That doesn't match the defensive nature of Angels other guardskills," Leonard muttered. "Possibly, the Fallen Angel added it. Should I delete it?"

Winnie bit her thumbnail. Honestly, she didn't want to mess with this crazy program any more then she had to. "No, leave it. Come on, let's get out of here."


	46. Teddy Bears

At long last, the lunch bell rang.

Finally, Mike thought, stretching out his arms as he meandered down the hall, Luke and Hannah out in front. I can't believe it would be this hard to pay attention. Still, he'd do anything to defeat this Fallen Angel. He had to fix this.

The students spilled out into the sunshine. Mike heard Luke and Hannah talking several yards ahead of him.

"-at least this mission is nowhere near as frightening as our others," Luke was declaring happily. Hannah muttered something, keeping to the shadows by the side of the path.

Luke slowed. "Hey, that garden over there looks really nice! It's so small, and there are those massive blue flowers. What do you think?"

Hannah regarded the area in question. "They certainly are flamboyant. But with those wide petals, it's possible something might be concealed beneath-" she broke off. "…what are you doing?"

Luke finally succeeded in freeing a large basket from his bag. He swallowed, and tapped it, face to the ground.

"Well, you see, I uh… well I just so happen to have with me this picnic. There are some apples and bottles of water, and some really-nice-tomato-sandwiches, and a blanket… and, well, maybe we could go eat in the garden? I mean, if you're not busy."

Hannah was silent for a moment. Her arms were crossing and uncrossing, unsure just what they should be doing. "Well, I… I suppose I do like tomato sandwiches..."

Mike watched as Luke eagerly began to set up. He tossed down the checkered blanket under the flowers, weighted the corners with food, and filled the air with chatter.

People are really are capable of so much, even in the hardest of times, Mike thought. Smiling, he was about to steal way, when something caught his ear.

"Hannah, what was your life like?"

Her eyes widened, her mouth full of tomato. She hurriedly swallowed. "What? Why do you care?"

Luke busied himself with slathering a cracker in peanut butter. "Oh, uh, it's just, you know… I want to know more about you. And I thought if I knew what your life was like, then maybe I'd understand you better."

Hannah's head dropped a fraction.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's-"

"_No_. I can tell you anything about my about my life, it won't bother me. None of it really matters anymore. It doesn't matter if I talk about it, because…my…life… means_ nothing _to me."

₪ "No matter how difficult live may be, it can be survived. If you learn the lessons of survival, how to eradicate threats, how to make yourself stronger, how to never trust…

"I was always my Daddy's girl. That was on the pink sign outside my bedroom; it was how people saw me. It was how I saw myself.

"My daddy was a preacher in our roomy parish in Alabama. He had a very large congregation; people always said he had a way with words. We never lacked for anything. My friends always wanted to come to our house; we had a tennis court, and a swimming pool. I had American girl dolls, a real maid, and a deluxe Barbie Dream House."

Hanna's hand clenched around the blade at her side. "I was Daddy's little princess. He never could say no to me, and boy, I used that to my advantage. I trusted him totally. I knew nothing could ever harm me. My Daddy had told me so.

"Daddy had some weird friends. They always came at night, in shiny cars. Daddy never let me meet them, always made me go to bed. I knew enough not to ask questions.

"One night after a meeting with his friends, my Daddy called me aside. 'Princess, I have been given some great news. Very shortly, our fortunes shall become even greater.' He was alive with energy-his smile was electric, his face glowed. I couldn't resist him when he was like this.

"I was breathless. 'Oh my Gosh, why?' I giggled.

"'The Lord provides. Just trust him. We're both looking out for our little Princess.'

"Sometimes, it all just seemed too miraculous to me. That I would have two fathers, who would love me so much. I was just a kid, but I was important in the King's eyes. That's what my daddy had taught me.

"For weeks, I wondered what the mysterious fortune could be. My dream was to be a professional violinist. I wanted to make my own songs, and create beautiful noise! There was a special school I desperately wanted to go to. Maybe, that was what my Daddy was planning for me.

"But every day, my father became more withdrawn. His sermons became frantic, and when he was alone, his hands would shake."

Hannah was still, cross-legged with eyes shut tight.

"My father's friends came on a rainy and moonless night. I remember waking up in the dead of night, hearing a crash. There was a thump from downstairs, then another crash. That came from the chapel, I thought. I stumbled downstairs, blinking in my nightgown, and wandered into the holy room.

"The alter lay fallen onto a pile of broken candlesticks. My father cowered against it, shaking under the barrel of a blonde women's pistol.

"Calling out, I ran to him, only to feel someone grab me. A man pulled me to him, pinning my arms painfully. He laughed as I screamed.

"'Daddy, I cried,' what's going on, who are these people? I'm scared!'

"The man laughed again, loud and high-pitched. 'What's this Milligan, never told your pretty girl about your old pals? Hahahaha, oh listen, I'm "Knight", and the joker over there is Bishop. A regular barrel of laughs.'

"Bishop did not acknowledge her associate. She was beautiful. She had a strong face, and a powerful body that lay coiled inside a formal suit. I remember looking at her eyes, and feeling like I was falling into a voyd.

Her fierce gaze never left my father. 'The Rinsey account went south, Milligan. McBordey, Kosher, all gone, all your ideas. Losses have been catastrophic.'

"'Everyone makes mistakes,' my father whimpered. 'I'm only human, please, please, just don…"

"'Just don't kill you? You know what kind of business this is, Milligan. It's thanks to us, plus the cash you scoop of the collection bins, that you can live in this pretty house,' Bishop spat. She kicked aside a candle. 'We always settle our debts. You know this.'

"Then, my heart stopped. My father was begging. He had fallen down to his knees, the strongest man in my life. His back faced the cross of his church, as my Daddy _groveled_. 'Please, you have to understand. I'm pleading, just give me some slack!' His eyes were red, his lips bubbled like bloated worms. 'You can take whatever you like, whatever just _please, don't hurt me!"_

"'Dad!" I cried... My heart was racing, my face was red, but I wasn't scared. I was in the house of the Lord, nothing bad could truly happen. This had to be a dream. I was my Daddy's little girl. 'Daddy, it's okay! They wouldn't dare hurt you, tell them who you are! You're God's soldier, his servant, his-"

"A loud hiss interrupted me. For a moment, I almost thought Bishop was laughing. But then I saw her face.

"Bishop's hate-filled face shown down on me, driven by the confidence of experience, pure in power. She was untouchable. 'God? You think God will protect you, the God of _Milligan_? Look at this gun, you _child. _With this gun, I have total power over the both of you. With this, I have the power to end your lives. And so, I am your _God_. And now, your father will learn the true nature of the Lord.'

"'NO!' my father shrieked. 'You can't! I can pay it back, take the house, take _whatever you want!_'

"The thugs paused. Suddenly, I felt a finger, stroking my cheek.

"'You know,' I heard Knight whisper. "This one ain't half bad. We could get a good price for her, on the market down in New Orleans."

"Bishop cocked her head, her stone eyes scanning me like a bar code. "Actually... you have a point. In fact…" she shrugged. 'Very well, Milligan. You can keep your life. On second thought, you could still be useful. You can use your mind-less congregation to pay back what you owe.'

"'Meanwhile, we'll be needing your daughter as a down payment."

"Knight drew me close to him, and he strode toward the exit, kicking pews aside as he went.

"My father collapsed as Bishop left him, gaze on the pristinely clean floor.

"'Dad!' I screamed, elbowing, thrashing. I tried to fight, desperately trying to catch his eye.

"'Hold on,' I remember him saying. Now that he wasn't under a gun, some strength had returned to him. "The Kines account is still profitable. I still get my cut from that, right?"

"Bishop ignored him, and just swept towards the door. Knight giggled, and patted my father on the head, before following after.

"I fought, and I screamed, and I _called out to him. Damn it, I begged him. _But my Daddy never looked up to acknowledged his little Princess, as I was drug out the chapel door."

Hannah blinked; she lowered the knife she had subconsciously clenched in her fist.

"On the toy market, they had a name for the products. The buyers and sellers called us 'Teddy Bears.' Useable, then disposable.

"No matter how much I tried to protect the people I met, Teddy Bears wear out after a few years. I was lucky. I lasted five."

Luke didn't move. His food lay untouched at his side.

"In keeping me in existence, the Lord has made a deadly error. There will be _justice_. I can't let him get away with it. He must pay for all of the lives his world destroys, for all of the children he has hurt." Hannah's shoulders, usually straight with readiness, shook. "I will become strong. I won't let him hurt anyone else."

Luke couldn't speak for a minute. He was clearly at a loss for words. Finally, he offered her a basket.

"…would you like a strawberry?"

Hannah stumbled. "Uh, no, I… It's fine."

Luke took a deep breath. "Hey… I know I might not be as strong as you. But… Hannah, I want to help you. I want you to know that I'm with you on this, against any monster, angel or God."

But Hannah only turned away. "Luke, I don't need anyone. I can survive on my own."

She continued to eat her sandwich in silence, while Luke withered.

Mike had slumped to the ground, his back to the pillar separating him from the picnic.

And I thought I had difficulties. I thought my life was hard, just because I was an apathetic loser who didn't care about anyone. In the world all-around me people had lives like Hannah, and meanwhile, I did nothing…

Mike felt like crumbling. He felt so useless it _burned_. In his life, he'd died before touching someone else, he was _worthless._

Maybe I deserved that crappy world, but did the rest of us? What kind of world is it, where Winnie's brothers and sister were killed out of simple spite? Where Hayley's dream was taken? Where Harry's life was degraded to filth? Where God's own angelic servant is left by herself, alone and abused? Where my sister died, before she had a chance to…

What kind of world would hurt Hannah so much, that she's afraid to let anyone close?

Mike's hands knit themselves into fists. God didn't care, he didn't love. He had total power, he could do anything, create anything, and yet… Pain. He created pain.

But not for much longer. The Battlefront was coming, and there would be justice.


	47. The Fallen

Winnie's eyes widened in horror. No, arg! They moved too quickly, curse them!

Her friends crowded around her, gaping like goldfish. In front of them, the infirmary beds lay in shatters, sheets torn and mattresses exploded.

"They're gone," Jake croaked, pointing out the glaring absence of angels, fallen or otherwise, in the room.

"Judging from the state of the room, I suppose that the Fallen Angel woke up first," Elliot conjectured. "She left… bringing our Angel with her."

"…Knew we should have left a guard."

"This is so stupid."

Emmanuel palmed his forehead. "Dudes, I'm so confused… Did Angel go with the Fallen Angel, or was she forced? I mean, if they're both angels, wouldn't they be working together?"

"It doesn't matter," Winnie declared. Regardless of whether Angel works with the Fallen Angel or not, she is still God's servant. She's our oldest enemy.

"We need to find the original Angel. Leonard and I altered her guardskill; all we need to do to destroy the Fallen Angel, is to get Angel to use harmonics. Then, her clone will absorb.

Harry whistled. "Whoa, so we need to find the original Angel, all the while avoiding the evil, creepy, Fallen Angel? But, but, I don't think I can last another day of classes though. It was hard!"

"We don't have time to stall anymore. Every hour we wait, the greater the chances of our enemies finding some way to close our window of opportunity," muttered Winnie. She paced back and forth, her friends following her nervously. "They could rewrite the program, though I had Leonard change the password. Heck, God could just destroy Angel, leaving the Fallen Angel as a replacement."

The Battlefront's eyes widened. Angel was their enemy, but at least she was the evil that she knew.

Mike collapsed into a chair.

Suddenly, a loud, irritating beep rang out. Mike scrambled, patting in his pockets franticly before withdrawing his old and rickety radio. He brought it to his ear hesitantly.

"_Hello, Mike? This is Bridget. Everyone else has their radios off. Could you pass me to Fred?"_

"Uh, yeah! Yeah, of course."

Winnie accepted the radio cautiously. "Yes? Huh? _Oh!"_ Her face lit up. "Guys! Bridget says she saw one of the Angels leaving the hospital an hour ago, she couldn't tell which. The Angel had something else in a sack. They made their way… to the gym."

Winnie paused as there was a burst of static from the radio. She sighed. "And yes. I, Winifred Washington, hereby declare that Bridget Lanesbury is the coolest, omnipotent surveillance geek in existence." Another burst of static. "_All right. _And I hereby take back all my previous remarks concerning the stupidity of bird watching. It is a noble and extremely fruitful sport."

She put the radio down. "All right gang, go get your guns. We're ending this."

Harry turned to Julie. "All right. Just how long do you think Girls Dead Monster can keep the distraction running?"

She swung to face him, elbows knocking. "N-no way Jose! No way am I going to something as scary as try to distract that creepy Angel! I have standards!"

Harry shoved his face into hers. "Hey, punk. GirlDeMo's purpose is for distractions! Just what kind of band leader are you if you let us all down?"

Julie growled in his face, her own skin flushed.

She spun to face Winnie. "Right! Oh-leader-Fred, I shall do my best to hold Creepy-Psycho-Fallen-Angel back, even if I do faint in the process. My life is in your-"

"That won't be necessary. There shall be no distractions this time, just a fair fight. Besides, we know where they are. Both of our Angels have descended into the Guild.

Inside the Gym, the entrance to the Guild leered at them, a dark hole to the unknown.

"We have to parachute again?" Harry asked nervously. "But… last time, nearly all of us died."

Jake threw his head back with a sneer. "Ah, don't be such a wimp, Harry."

"If I recall, you were the first one to die last time," Emm reminded him teasingly.

Winnie stood before her battalion. "It is most probable that our targets are at the bottom floor of the guild, where our factory used to be. This would be the most difficult for us to reach. Is everyone ready?"

Her team nodded their assent, or in TK's case, danced in a way signifying affirmation.

Right, Winnie prodded to herself, this is it. They're all looking at you to get them through this. I've worked out my strategy, and no overblown-super powered-servant of God is going to hurt us. And this time, _no one is dying._

"Then, let's go!"

They trekked along the passage way. Lamps cast shifting shadows around their group. Dust hung heavy over the floor, still a wreck from the passage of the crushing stone form their first parachute.

"We're in luck," Harry said optimistically. "Since we moved the Guild factory, no one's bothered to reset the traps. At least we won't have to worry about that. Not to mention the blood stains should lead us right to the old factory."

Julie, already shivering, soon escalated into full on hummingbird-mode. "Y-you k-kn-know, I th-think if we meet Angel down here, I-I'm going to f-faint."

"I don't care," Harry replied haughtily.

Julie latched onto his arm. "Oh-please-oh-please care! I-"

A form abruptly flickered into view ahead of them. Hazel eyes piercing through the shadows, as Angel stepped from the gloom.

Julie collapsed. Harry immediately went to work slapping her awake.

"Ha! Showing up already? You surrender the element of surprise!" Winnie sneered, stepping forward. They paused, regarding their enemy. Which one was it?

The question was answered as the figure grinned, perfect teeth snarling as them as it cackled. Spit flew from the Fallen Angel's gaping mouth as she stepped forward. Blades appeared on either of her arms, trembling with anticipation.

"_You children aren't supposed to be down here,_" the monster snarled in a voice like rusted knives. "_You could get hurt, down here in the dark…_"

Aw, crap, Winnie cursed. "Everyone, fire-"

The monster dissolved into a white blur. Everyone cried out in horror as the Fallen Angel flew through them, blades flashing.

_Hiss_. With a rip, their guns fell apart in their hands, torn apart.

"Graag!" Jake cried out. His voice dissolved into a gurgle as he collapsed. His throat a mess of red, his eyes went still.

Emmanuel sighed. "Not that it matters, but I'd like to point out that he was the first to go again."

Winnie grit her teeth as they spun to face the Fallen Angel, which had come to a stop down the passage. She was playing with them.

"Everyone, you still have your hand guns! _Get her!"_

The bloodied school girl only smiled as the bullets flew past her, repulsed by her distortion field. "_You'll have to do better than that, my dears_."

"I bloody hate that ability," Richie roared, laying into her.

SHCLIZE!

Everyone froze as the familiar sound hit them. As one, they turned.

Leonard whimpered. His eyes drifted shut as the blade stuck in his neck lifted him up, so they could see the figure behind him.

Another Angel grinned out at them, bouncing Leonard's body on the end of her sword. With a motion, she flicked him into a corner. "_Tut-tut. Such disobedience… The Creator would not be pleased."_

Their itchy-trigger fingers opened fire on the new threat, the force of the bullets holding her back even as the ammunition was dispersed by another distortion field.

"_Hmm," _came a voice from behind as the first Fallen Angel strode closer. "_You seem busy…_"

"Winnie," Harry yelled. "We're almost out of bullets!"

Winnie's heart raced. The situation was escalating out of control, fast. It was time to cut their loses. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the passage they had used to escape the stone. It had a steel door.

"Everyone stay with me! Move quickly, and don't fall behind!" Flicking an object from out of her pocket, Winnie bit the cap of the grenade, and hurled it into the Angel before them. The impact stunned their adversary, cloaking her in smoke. "Come on!"

They sprinted through the smog, the Battlefront desperately following Winnie's form. They dashed through the door, Mike struggling to close it as Winnie hovered at his side, covering him.

The Fallen Angel behind them stopped striding, and started sprinting, blades rushing forward.

Mike and Winnie abruptly felt hands on their collars; they were dragged in, just as the door rumbled shut behind them.


	48. Noble Sacrifices

Harry slumped against the passage wall, face dripping with sweat. "Whew… ugh, this is more intense then our last operation Parachute!"

The Battlefront slumped around him, faces drawn. "How the heck did that happen?" Emmanuel asked. "That second one, it didn't seem like our Angel. It seemed like another…"

"Honestly, the lot of you are all morons!" snarled Albert, standing up. "-Except for you Sir Michael, you are intelligent! Anyways!"

The Student Body President waved his hands grandly. "Use your heads. The Fallen Angels have shown they can use the guardskills Handsonic and distortion. By that logic…"

Elliot put his head in his hands. "They can use Harmonics…"

"But wait! Didn't Winnie alter the program, so that if they use harmonic-"

"The clones could have made their clones before this alteration," Albert continued. "And if one clone made one more clone, and that clone made one more… Then our enemies could be endless."

"Yikes… that's some bad luck," Harry whistled.

"No, you imbeciles!" Albert cursed, eyes widened. "You're all brain dead sea sponges!-Except for you of course, Mike, you are proud noble!"

Winnie narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about, politician-pants? Surely more Fallen Angels is just more enemies for us to beat up."

"You have to think like a villain, which, these beings obviously are. Now, we have two Fallen Angels behind us, and many more between us and our goal.

"We're trapped, my fellows. We can't escape. They planned this, and there's nothing we can do."

There was a pause as the penny dropped. Emmanuel gazed at his handgun in alarm. "We're low on ammunition… and there's no way to get new supplies."

"If we stay here, we'll starve," Richie realized.

Mike hugged his knees to his chest. "I don't get it… why are they doing this? And, one of them mentioned a creator. Was I imagining that?"

Aw, cripes, Winnie cursed to herself. "It's obvious. Albert's right, these Fallen Angels have trapped us where we can't escape.

"This "creator" can only be one being, their Master. God. God is using these monsters against us, and if they find us, they will crush us," she predicted. Well, actually, it'll probably be a bit more graphic then that, but no need to scare anyone.

She grimaced. There was only one thing their enemies could be up to. "They won't let us leave, they'll just continue to attack and kill us, keeping us here until we submit to their will: and face obliteration."

All around her, her friends took a breath. Then Emmanuel made a fist. "Like hell. We've made it this far sticking it to the man; he ain't going to get us now. I don't care how many demons he uses." His companions roared their agreement.

Winnie smiled. "You got it. Now listen, if we can find the original Angel and get her to use Harmonics, all of the new angels should still absorb! We just have to find her. Right, let's go!"

Water dripped from the ceiling, splashing against bare necks. Handguns and blades poked out of their group as they advanced, one prickly barnacle.

"You know, once we find our Angel, how are we going to get her to use Harmonics?"

"If necessary, she can be persuaded," Hannah muttered darkly.

Winnie pursed her lips. "I'm not sure. Given present evidence, we can suppose that it was our Angel who was in the sack Bridget saw. The Fallen Angel's must be holding her captive."

Mike padded beside her, his fists clenching and unclenching. "It doesn't make sense. Emily-I mean Angel; you know how strong she is. How could they contain her?"

Good question, Winnie, thought. "Actually, I've put thought into the subject myself. What they're probably doing to keep her in a permanent state of damage. Basically, whenever she starts to recover, they tear her apart again."

See saw Mike's jaw slacken as his eyes widened. He looked like the blades were personally piercing him.

She frowned at him. "What's the matter?

Mike ran a hand over his face. "I-I'm fine. Let's just hurry, all right? And don't worry about Angel; I'm sure she'll help us."

"Whatever." What's his issue? He acts like he's worried about _it._

Not that I care, of course.

A gasp from the front brought the procession to a shuddering halt. A Fallen Angel loomed out of the shadows, her leering face haloed in the flickering lamplight. Julie shrieked and attempted to hide behind Harry.

"_Why, what a surprise. Aren't I lucky_."

Winnie grit her teeth. This was bad. "All right, we can try-"

She abruptly felt a hand on her shoulder. Richie the fifth strode past her, crackling his heavy knuckles.

"Leave your weapons," he ordered, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "This is the only way." He strode forward.

"Richie, no!" Harry cried.

The giant's only response was a dull growl that built into a roar as he raced down the passage. "Give 'em hell for me!" The Angel's blade winked into existence.

At the last possible moment, the man mountain launched into the air. Winnie saw the fallen Angel's eyes widen in disbelief as hundreds of pounds of muscle collided with her.

SCHLIZE! Richie roared in agony as the blade burst through his chest.

"Richie the fifth, NOOOOO!"

"Go on," he grunted, his arms locked around the struggling form. She was a doll in his arms. "I've got her in a judo lock. Get going, while I'm still conscious…"

They filed past, flipping him the thumbs up.

"All right," Winnie grunted. "Thanks to Richie the fifth's noble sacrifice, we now know how to get past these Fallen Angels." Kamikaze ninjas, why didn't I think of that? "Angel is powerless once her arms are locked in. The time has come to use the Judo locks Richie taught us."

"So… this way we only lose one person per Angel?" Elly confirmed, pushing his glasses up his suddenly slick nose.

"Yep. That's about it." Hopefully, we won't come across anymore, of course.

They bumped into another Fallen Angel five minutes later. The wall had turned to brick, the red material enveloping the tunnel as the fair-haired figure advanced.

This time, it was TK who danced forward.

" 'S my turn dudes. With the lights out, it's less dangerous!"TK careened forward, spinning right into a very surprised enemy.

"Awww-yeah-SCHLIZE!"

"TK, NOOOOOO!"

The next opponent found them as they entered the star trek-decorated section of the guild. Elly's shirt fluttered to the ground.

"Be strong, my companions," he declared, deliciously perfect pecs roaring their defiance. "I shall bring justice! Tally ho-SCHLIZE!"

"Elly, NOOOOOOO!"

Luke was in hysterics.

"What gives," Harry accused. 'It's like where in some third-rate horror flick!"

The Fallen Angel stood in their path, cold eyes locked on them, as a twisted tongue licked past parted lips.

"You think you can scare me, punk," Emmanuel howled. "You don't scare me! Give me the heeby-jeeby-Mcfleebies, yeah, but…eh-hem! Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries! Come at meeeee-SCHLIZE!"

"Emm, NOOOOOO!"

Hannah crossed her arms. "This is so stupid." She started forward. "Arg, this is so stupid." She broke into a run.

"This is just so-SCHLIZE!"

"Hannah, oh NOOOOOO!"

Luke collapsed. His face was taught with horror, still stung from Hannah's sacrifice just a ways down the path. "I don't… I don't think I-"

Albert's luminous eyes suddenly obscured his vision, massive, entrancing, beguiling… "Why, my dear friend… It's time you realized the truth about yourself. You are a clown. And there, lurking in the shadows, is a little girl. Why, she's all alone…"

Luke sprung up with a laugh, rosy cheeks gleaming as he skipped forward. "Why, you're right! I've got to make her laugh! Come here, little-SCHLIZE!"

"Luke, NOOOOOO!"

Mike glared at Albert. "You're really awful, you know that?"

"H-huh? No, you misunderstand!" Albert protested, his hand gesturing wildly. "I can be good! Look, I'll take care of the next one."

SCHLIZE!

Winnie folded her arms. Harry kicked a stone.

Mike coughed. "Uh, isn't anyone going to say anything?"

Julie shrugged. "Nah. I don't even know his name."

They ran into some luck. They didn't hit another Fallen Angel until they had reached the subterranean lake. They were almost here.

Mike steadied himself with a breath. "Right. I'll take this one."

Harry caught his arms. "No, I'll handle it. Besides, you have to go on. You need to be there, at the end."

"What? Why?"

When Mike met Harry's eye, what he saw stopped him short. Harry understood. "Dude, I got you. You need to free _her_, don't you? You-"

"_Get a move on, if you're going, you great chicken!_" Julie pounded, sending Harry spinning away with a kick. Not stopping Harry broke away, and launched himself onto their resistor.

SCHLIZE.

Julie flinched. "…Ah." She sniffed. "Thank you, Harry."  
Winnie and Mike exchanged glances.


	49. Hold On

Finally, the ruins of the factory stood before them. Pillars of ashes, pits of dust and rusted metal lurked.

Winnie peered down into the dusty depths. This was it. "All right. We should be able to just slide down this slope here pretty easily, as long as you avoid those jutting beams. Don't worry; you'd have to be pretty clumsy to run into one.

"Mike, I want you and Julie to go and find the original Angel. Once you find her, convince her through any means necessary to use her harmonics ability."

Mike nodded. "And everyone will be ok, once she's safe."

Winnie watched him, noting the way his eyes lit up once he said _safe_, alive again with the light she had come to associate with him. What is his deal; she thought again, bitterness sweeping through her. Doesn't she know what Angel is, what she represents?

Whatever, we don't have time for this. "Come on."

They carefully stepped over the lip of the slope, and started down, balancing as their feel slid on a layer of loose sand. Julie followed a few feet behind, her hands waving franticly.

"Ahh, guys, I really don't have good balance, I… _Ah, steel beam_-_Thwang…"_

Mike and Winnie made it to the bottom. They looked around.

"Where'd Julie go?"

"I thought I heard a short scream on the way down…"

Winnie tutted. "Shame. Looks like our enemies got to her too, the poor dear. Come on, can't let her sacrifice go in vain.

They made their way into the ruins. Up ahead, they could make out a petite figure strolling into view, and the flash of a blade forming.

Winnie whistled. "Well, it looks like it's just us again.

"Yep," Mike agreed. He glanced at her. "You do know that this isn't your fault, right? Everyone did what they could to let us get this far. You managed to hold us together."

"Yeah, I got it." Winnie grumbled. "…thanks for sticking by me, Mike. Even if you are a moron. Now go find Angel, I bet she's sleeping somewhere. Leave this chick to me. I really want to beat someone up right about now."

As Mike tip-toed away, Winifred flipped out her handgun, unloading two shots at the Fallen Angel's head. Both were repulsed by a distortion field.

She cursed. Figures.

A white blur flew at her. Darn it, these creepers are aggressive, Winnie thought as she flicked out her knife. Their metals met in a clash of sparks. Winnie made out her enemies eyes, alive with bloodlust.

They spun apart. Who the hell are these people, Winnie wondered. Whatever. They aren't sticking around much longer.

"_Guardskill: Delay_," the clone whispered, seconds before Winnie's grenade imploded against her face. The clone's afterimage was blown apart by the explosion as the physical form surged forward, meeting Winnie's blade again with a clang. They fought, lunging, sliding, and slashing.

Winnie felt the metal bit into her shoulder before she repulsed with a parry. Her breath came in short gasps; it was all she could do to deflect her opponent's ludicrous attacks. With a grunt, she kicked out.

The Fallen Angel spun away, face not even flushed. But then, instead of jumping back in, she smiled. Rising her blades over her head, she began to hum.

"_Guardskill: Howling."_

"Mike!" Winnie shouted. "Cover your ears!"

Across the cavern, her surprised friend had just clasped his head when a grinding shockwave tore through him, throwing him to the ground. "What… what is it?" he gasped, veins throbbing in agony.

All throughout the cavern, metal twisted and screeched with the disturbance. Invisible shockwaves of perverted discord emanated from the Fallen Angel's hands, before racing out, causing avalanches on the slopes of dust.

The Fallen Angel leered with pleasure. Then, the smile faltered. What was this? A figure, some battered school girl was fighting her way forward, clothes rippling with pressure. No, this was impossible! She couldn't, she couldn't she-

SCHLIZE!

The clone collapsed, the discord fading into swirls and eddies. Winnie leaned over the other girl, letting go of her submerged blade with satisfaction.

The Fallen Angel coughed, eyes narrowed. "_How… how did you…"_

"Hmm?" Winnie questioned, indicating her ears. She popped out her ear plug. "Sorry, didn't catch that?"

Her enemy groaned with fury, straining under Winnie's weight.

"Now now, calm down. I can slit your throat with my spare knife, if you wish."

The moment the Howling had ended, Mike forced himself back onto his feet. He was stumbled onward, when a flash of white in a nearby pit caught his eye. There, curled up at the bottom, lay a young girl.

"Emily!" he slid down to the bottom of the hole. "Emily! Are you ok?" When he saw her, he felt something tear

. He encircled his arms around Mike, gathering her up into his lap. He tried to ignore the systematic series of holes present in her chest.

She was silent for a moment. Then, gradually, her eyes stretched open. "… Mr. Carter? What are you doing down here? It is very dusty, and I …am afraid you might have trouble sneezing." She coughed feebly.

He nearly laughed with relief. "No, no, it's okay. Listen Emily, there's something very important I need you to do for me? Please, just this one favor.

She blinked at him in acknowledgment.

"I need you to use one of your guardskills. Harmonics. Everyone else is in trouble, they're hurt. If you use it… you can help them. We can get rid of all of these monsters.

"If I use it… all of the copies will be absorbed?"

He nodded franticly. "Yes! Yes, they'll all disappear."

I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, he cursed to himself. I should have known that I'm not good enough to do that basic thing.

Her eyes closed for a moment. "Very well. If it is what you wish. I think I can handle it, once."

He felt her chest expand as she took a breath. "_Guardskill: Harmonics."_

Just as when Emily had fought the Master of the River, her body was briefly illuminated in a blinding glow. The light flowed through her, moving to a single point before leaping from her form, to solidify in the rubble behind them. Mike watched as a figure became apparent, a reflection of the girl in his arms.

Far away, Emily's computer flashed. _Timer activated. 10. 9._

The Fallen Angel blinked. "_Oh. You have altered the program."_

"Yes," Mike glared. "This is the end. You're leaving, all of you.'

Angel's reflection smiled. "_Oh, really? We're going back into Miss Emily Robinson, all 99 of us?_

_ "But us copies have strength of our own, you know. Do you think she'll be all right, after absorbing all these hate-filled minds_?"

_1. : Absorb_

She smiled. "_It's time."_

"Wait, what do you mean?" Mike gasped. "Hold on!"

The taunting grin evaporated. Angel's copy dissolved, her body splitting into stream of 1's and 0's. The smog of code hovered for a moment, before sinking into Angel like a burial shawl.

Emily screamed. Eyes flew open, she lashed out, her body convulsing as the code permeated her. Mike's gaze snapped round. All around them, clouds of red code were dribbling through the cavern's ceiling, sucked toward them. Mike felt terror strike him, and the urge to flee howled in his ear.

No. I may not be able to protect her. But I won't leave her. Clenching his eyes, Mike brought Emily in to his chest.

Searing agony ripped through him as he felt the code tear through his back, before entering Emily. Mike's back arched as poison after poison ate through him.

Emily jerked and thrashed against him, and every Fallen Angel that passed through burned like an inferno from hell. But he couldn't let go. All he could do was keep her fevered form close to his, and hold on.

**A/N: End of Mission Eight. More than halfway done, and almost at chapter 50. We've really gotten far, much farther than I thought we would. Now's the time that I start thinking about how I want this to end. I guess I've got a few ideas. Thanks for all the support guys. **


	50. 100 Souls

The river rolled on, moonlight reflected in its shifting waters. Flowerbeds swelled and flattened under the night breezes, as silence gripped the campus. The students slept in their beds, unaware of the party occurring just down the path.

Lights were on in the principal's office, they didn't have to worry about stealth. There was no one to punish them.

General Fred beamed out at her soldiers from the principals' desk. "First of all, congratulations, all of you. Our mission was a success; all of the Fallen Angel's are gone."

There was a huzzah. People cheered, crowding and pushing against each other. In honor of their success, the entire Battlefront had been called up the office. Tech, distraction, and combat division team members all intermingled, mobbing the table of snacks that Emm and Richie had liberated from the cafeteria. Julie, Jess, Kate, and Irie were chatting, enjoying Julie's radical embellishment of her part in The Great Fallen Angel Smack Down.

"So, after Mr. Gorilla got taken out by one of those demons, it was just me, Winnie and Mike. The top honcho's," Julie breathed.

"It was down to the wire. If we didn't find the original Angel, and somehow trick her into using her powers, the entire Battlefront could be obliterated. Naturally, Winnie decided to send me to stave of the tides of Fallen Angels, while she and Mike went to find our target. I was frightened, yes. But I was determined. I knew I had to-"

"Hold, who's a gorilla?" Harry asked, stopping by. "And how does me stopping by and fishing you out of pile of steel beams factor into this?"

Julie desperately tried to salvage the noble fib, all the while enduring her band member's chuckles of mirth. Eventually, she gave up, and dove on Harry, sending them crashing into the bowl of punch.

Winnie watched the proceedings, arms folded. She felt a presence at her side.

"So, apparently our former Student Body President is in the infirmary," Albert muttered between sips of punch. "She's knocked out, in some form of coma. And… our friend Mike is in there with her. Is that correct?"

She nodded tightly. "that's correct. I could barely get anything out of him when I found him. He was barely conscious. All he could tell me was that when Angel used absorb, all of her clones were dissolved. Then, they retreated into her."

"Interesting, "Albert replied. "It is conceivable, given the corruption of the data… that our Angel will never wake up. We can only hope."

Albert took another sip. "But, we must remember to think of all sides. There are 99 violent will inside our former president, all fighting against her single soul. If she does awaken… who will she be?"

Winnie's fists tightened. "I am aware of the risk. I have sent Leonard to do what we should have tried days ago. He will delete all of the applications from the Angel Player program. Richie and TK are guarding the infirmary."

"You know that's only buying time. If our president wakes up as a Fallen Angel, then the being we knew will be dead. _God's will_ will have been done. She will break out, reinstall her applications, and probably replace them with ones more attuned to destruction. She will become unstoppable. There will be no peace." Albert frowned. "And you left Michael in there with her?"

"He wouldn't leave. Hey, listen, Albert." Winnie gestured at their friends, eating, tussling and laughing all around them. "Everyone here has worked and fought to win this one, small moment of peace. I want them not to have to worry, even if for one night."

Winnie's eyes flashed. "I am the leader of the Battlefront. I'll take on the worry for this myself. I'm used to it. I can fix this. Now you go and quit being so antisocial, try to actually get to know some people. I'm going to visit Mike."

Angel's head was sunken into the pillow, her peaceful face giving no clue to the fight that was taking place behind closed eyes. Mike had managed to wipe some of the grime off her face, and she seemed at peace in the cot, as if she was only asleep. Moonlight drifted in, her constant companion. It lit up her motionless form.

Mike had not found time to wash. He felt dirt, pebbles, and exhaustion in his every crevasse. His very veins still ached from the pain he had endured with Emily. It hurt all the more, knowing how much worse it had been for the person before him.

He scooted his chair closer to her cot, letting his head fall into his hands.

"Wow. You're really worked up, aren't you?"

He jerked upright.

Winnie's shadow preceded her, cutting across the bed as she stepped in, hands in pockets. "So, is this just to be polite, or what? I mean, were you some kinda hospital orderly in your normal life? You never did tell me about that, you know."

Mike gave her a wan smile. "Ah, not really. I did spend most of my time in hospitals, one way or another."

"Really?"

"Yep. My sister was sick for most of her life. I spent most of my time with her. She was the only thing that gave my life purpose. And then… after she died… somehow I found the strength to move on. I studied to become a doctor; I wanted to use my life to help others, to touch others…"

He looked down. "Course, I died before that ever happened. That's life for you, huh?"

"Right!" Winnie agreed eagerly, stepping to stand next to him. "Exactly! Wait, I mean, it sucks that that happened to you." She grimaced. Ouch. Smooth, Winnie. "Ugh. I mean… it's just not fair. That our lives would be treated like such jokes. That life could be so ugly, and so cruel."

Mike nodded. "You're right. It's not fair that we're treated like this." His gaze fell down to the figure lying in the cot. Winnie followed his gaze. She swallowed.

"Hey, Mike, what's going on? Why are you here?" Fury blossomed in her cheeks. "You know what this monster means to us, right? She's a tool. Used by Him."

I know it isn't pleasant, it isn't nice to have to think like this, she cursed. But someone has to. And I owe it to everyone, because they've put their trust in me. Everyone in the Battlefront trusts me to be their leader.

Just as… my sisters and brother trusted me to be their big sister.

Mike didn't reply to her, his eyes just poured into hers, filled with weariness.

"Mike, I need to know that you're with us. I need to know that I can depend on you."

He cleared his throat. "Winnie, don't worry.

"I never learned how to get to know people while I was alive. But now, with everyone that I've met…. I want to them to be happy. I don't want them to be hurt." He gestured at Emily. "That means all of you."

With a force of will, Winnie strangled the roar that had been forming in her throat. Turning on her heel, she swept out of the infirmary, leaving TK and Richie spinning. That moron, she hissed to herself. Whenever I talk to him, I always get… confused. I feel unsure, a very undesirable trait in a leader. He makes me think of things I never would otherwise.

And he calls me Winnie. Out of all of them, that Mutton Head calls me Winnie.

In the Infirmary, Mike felt exhaustion crash over him. His talk with Winnie had left him feeling drained.

Emily, you jerk, he thought, gazing at her. When we first met, you said this place had no need for hospitals, because no one ever got sick. So why won't you wake up?

As the minutes passed, his eyelids blinked their last. Sleep took him. He collapsed forward, coming to rest on the bed's resident. His head rose and fell, safe on his friend's warm chest.

"_How clever the plans of the Creator_," the voices hissed. "_Now, his Hands shall gain control, and one of his oldest enemies will be destroyed. Surrender, Emily Robinson, and avoid needless pain._

"I don't believe so," Emily politefully disagreed. "For you see, there is still much that I must do. I am not yet finished."

"_Ah, but you are."_

Emily felt as if she was being torn apart. She was surrounded by darkness. The only light burned from explosions of red that seared her mind as she thought of them. She could feel hordes of demons assailing her from around, as another horde clamored from within. Every inch of her felt bruised, battered, and broken.

She tried not to let tears come to her eyes; she didn't want them to see her pain. But it was too horrible; she couldn't possibly win, not against so many. She was being eaten alive, abandoned to herself, alone.

But… she wasn't. Impossibly, she felt a presence at her side, and for one moment, she heard the voices screech with fear.

Suddenly, she could see. And while the pain continued, escalating every second, there was a sudden pressure on her chest. And then, her heart began to race.


	51. The Introvert's Burial

**Day 1**

Mike's eyes flashed open. He blinked.

Darkness surrounded him; the only source of light came from the train's feeble emergency strips. From their lukewarm glow he could barely make out the silhouettes of the scattered suitcases and seats.

Grimacing, he struggled to his feet. His brain pounded against his skull, his tongue throbbed from where he had bit it in the collision. Oh, man… How long had he been asleep? He pulled out his cell. Aw, 5:30! His final exam had started a half hour ago.

A feeble groan gripped his attention. He made out a figure in the seat across from him, his head tucked in to his lap. Mike quickly took a survey of the train. It wasn't very crowded; there was a couple on the left, a mother and her daughter in the back, a young man slumped in front of them, and a few others. Those who had been in their seats all seemed all right. No one spoke, the shock left them thick.

There was another groan from behind him. Mike turned around, and flinched. The man who had been standing behind him had not been as lucky. His arm was twisted at an impossible angle, and his chest rattled with every breath. There was probably more, but Mike couldn't make it out in the dark… why was it dark? It was the afternoon, wasn't it?

Mike made his way down the aisle, faces turned to him as he passed, dazed. As he reached the far end, a figure found the strength to stand up with him.

"Looks we had a bit of an accident," the man coughed. He dressed in a pin-stripped suit; he looked only a little older then Mike, though some premature balding had struck. The man coughed again, gazing at the train around him in horror.

"H-hey, look, are you all right?" Mike stuttered. As ever, he was clueless as to how to interact with people; he felt awkward and disconnected. However, at this point, he had larger worries. "Have you hit your head? Do you have any disorientation, nausea? Any sharp pains?"

"Uh, no, I think I'm fine. My head's kinda pounding. "

Without asking, Mike felt the man's forehead, and discovered a cut, wide, but not that deep. "Don't worry, I can patch that up. I just need to get something to staunch the flow. You'll be ok, well, your head, that is."

Despite the situation, his new companion chuckled. "Wow, thanks. Are you doctor, or something?'

Mike turned to survey the rest of the train. Darn it, a question… he hated it when people asked him questions, his head always blanked. "Doctor, well, half. I mean, not, not a doctor. I'm a student. A medical student, that is. I'm about to graduate, or, I was…" he trailed off.

Carefully, he ripped offthe tip of his sleeve, and before the suited man could protest, completed a simple bandage. "There."

His companion didn't seem to notice his incoherency. "Come on, my key chain's got a flashlight. Let's check out outside."

After a few moments of prying, they managed to squeeze the metro's door open, and had tumbled out.

Mike stared around. Oh. That was why it was dark.

They were in a tunnel, rough rock encircled them. Mike scarcely remembered their metro ducking into one, in the minutes before the impact. His companion's key light played over the stone walls, before panning ahead of them. They flinched.

A pile of rubble lay ahead on the tracks. The pile of stone leered at them. Uncaring, it filled the entire tunnel. There was no way of knowing how deep it went, all that was visible was that it had entirely encased the train car ahead of theirs. They couldn't even see the next car, just the metal connector trailing into the rock slide.

Mike heard his companion gasp, and the key light began to shake.

This is bad, he thought. This cave-in is massive, and I have no clue just how much of the tunnel fell in. Once they find out what happened, I don't know how long it'll take for them to dig us out. All kinds of terrible things could…

Well, that didn't matter now. Right now, there was something he could do to help. Right now there were injured people on that train.

"Hey, what's your name?" Mike called uncertainly. It wasn't a question he was accustomed to.

The suited man turned toward him, face pale. He really wasn't much older than Mike. "it's J-Jack. Jack McPherson.

"And I'm Michael Carter. All right Mr. McPherson, I can really use your help. I need you to look through our train car. Look for any flashlights or first aid kits you can find, they should be at either end, or on the roof. If that fails, find some coat or curtain we can use for bandage fabric." He paused. "I mean, you can if you-"

Jack nodded, relieved, and dashed off.

Mike swallowed. Then, stepping back onto the train after Jack, he spoke up. 'All right, uh, everyone. There's been an accident, as you can see… Anyway, I'm going to check you all out for injuries. If you've hurt anything, just speak up. Don't worry guys; we're all going to be fine."

Two hours later by the clock on his cell, Mike slumped against a rock wall, sighing. They had been very lucky. Most of the train car's resident's had escaped with nothing more than scrapes and bruises, a few cuts and strains here. Mr. McPherson had found a first aid kit, and the tacky metro curtains had been put to good use. The little girl looked like she might have broken a finger, but he'd set it. She'd be fine once she got to a hospital.

It was the man who'd been standing behind him that he was worried about. His arm was definitely broken, and his right eye had suffered serious bruising. But what was really threatening was his torso. Several ribs had snapped. Though Mike hadn't said anything, he suspected the lung might have been punctured. He had sat the man up on a cushion, but he desperately needed attention.

Mr. McPherson strolled up to him. Once he had started assisting in the first aid, his terror had dulled, and Mike now noticed a form of hesitant friendliness in his manner.

"We checked our cells, no one's got reception. Big surprise. And me and a few guys tried digging at the rubble, but it's not working… The stones are too big. The bandages are holding up, though. You did a good job."

"Uh, thanks, Mr. McPherson."

"You kidding? Just call me Jack."

Mike stood up. 'Uh right. Hey, I'm going to go check out the other end of the tunnel," he called out. Heads turned to him expectantly. "I don't know how long it is, but hopefully I'll find someone. And don't worry, I promise you that I'll get help, I won't just run off!"

Moron! Why the heck did you say that?

Mike started to hurry away when two voices stopped him. "Hey, good luck!" the couple called after him. Several others echoed the sentiment softly.

Smiling to himself, he set off.

Mike came to a stop all too quickly. His pulse quickened.

His path was blocked by another cave in, just as thorough as its sister. There… there must have been some sort of disturbance in this mountain; he didn't know how much of the track had caved in.

For all he knew, their cave was the only pocket still intact. For now.

Stepping forward, he held out his cell phone, looking for reception. No dice. Maybe if he climbed up to the top-

The moment he stepped up, Mike felt something in him lurch. He tumbled back into the dirt, grunting in agony, teeth gritted. For a moment, he lay on the rock; it felt like his insides were burning him. What the hell was going on?

Finally, he gathered the courage to lift his shirt. He felt a sharp intake of breath.

His lower torso was one mass of throbbing purple. Internal bleeding. Something inside him was broken.

The train victims all perked up as they noticed the familiar figure emerging from the gloom.

"Mike!" Jack chimed, running up. "Did you find a way out?"

Not making eye contact with anyone, Mike shook his head. "No," he croaked. "It's blocked."

Jack shrunk. "Oh. Well, that's bad, isn't it." He looked around. Everyone else was gazing at the pair, with expressions ranging from ill-concealed terror, to borderline despair. "What… what do you think we should do?"

Mike straightened up. "We don't know how long it will take them to come dig us out. If there are two cave ins, then it means there are more. My hypothesis is that there was some seismic disturbance in this area. That means there might be many people who need help, not just us."

He saw his companions shrink at his words. Darn it, why am I so bad with people. "But, hold on! We're going to be all right. What we can do is, find all of the food, all the water, and stockpile it. Then we can ration it evenly. Then we'll be able to last. If we d-do this correctly-"

"Hold one f***ing minute," a voice snarled. One of the young men stepped forward, face shiny with perspiration. "Who the hell said you could just start telling us what to do? This is a disaster situation! And personally, I'm not going to let some stuttering idiot-"

"What are you talking about?" Jack interrupted heatedly. "Do you have any better ideas? Mike here actually knows something useful. He took care of us. I think that counts as evidence that he'll watch out for us."

After a tense moment, there were nods of agreement. The mother gathered her daughter in close to her. The couple briefly clasped hands.

Mike turned to his new friend. "Uh, thanks. Thanks for all the help."

Jack shrugged ruefully. "Oh, you know. I'm a lawyer, myself. It's what I do."


	52. An Introvert's Impact

**Day 2**

The cave enclosed them. Dust occasionally trickled from the ceiling, until all of the cave's inhabitants were cloaked in a uniform sheet of grey. The space was filled with coughing. Though no one mentioned it, everyone was thinking that this cave was coming closer and closer to becoming a tomb.

With a snap of cloth, Mike finished changing the bandages of the man with the cracked ribs. He patted the man's shoulder as he finished, a motion he had seen others perform at his sister's hospital. He had never really cared enough to want to comfort someone before. But now, knowing the scope of _his _patient's pain, he had to find some way to bring relief.

"How many supplies did we end up with?" he asked Jack as they walked to the back of the cavern. This was becoming a habit of theirs, both of them confessed a joy of being alone. Neither of them realized that on their walks together to be alone, they weren't, in fact, alone.

"Well, let's see," Jack recollected. "We've got a couple of packed work lunches, 3 granola bars, a couple bananas, and a box of cookies. As well as five medium sized bottles of waters.

"Using minimal rationing, that might be able to last us for three more days," replied Mike quickly, doing some mental calculations. "That _has _to be enough time for them to find us."

Jack shook his head in admiration. "Wow man, you really know your stuff. What, were you planning to go run a missionary, or something? You're so devoted, you act like you've been helping people your whole life."

"What? No! No, nothing like that. It's just, I really want to-"

"_Someone stop him! He's running away with our water!"_

They spun at the cry. Their camp had dissolved into commotion, as a young man, the rebel form yesterday, sprinted away.

Mike never did understand where the youth had planned on running to. There was nowhere to hide. All he knew was that every hour that passed, the boy's panic had increased. And now, burdened by their satchel of plastic bottles, all he could do was scream as two other youths caught up to him, and tackled him to the ground, the satchel spinning away.

The room watched in horror as the satchel fell, bounced, and spilled. The water bottles flew out, settled, and stilled. All except one, which broke open, and drained into the dust.

Mike walked up to the delinquent. The boy struggled in the dirt against his restrainers.

"What are you going to do now, _great leader_," the boy sneered, eyes bulging as he recognized his observer. "I broke your law! What are you going to do, beat me up? Are you going to make a whip out of your cloth, and attack me? Huh? Or will you kill me, to give more water to yourselves?

"You have the control, right? That means you're our _God_."

There was silence. The youth forced his way to his knees, and spat at Mike's feet. "I don't care. I know what's going to happen, either way. No one's coming, and you know it. We're all just going to die here, die like rats in a trap. One by one."

With a cry, the mother stooped to hug her daughter, covering her ears and pressing her against her shaking form.

"Someone hit him," came a voice, a snarl from a woman of at least 50. "I said hit him, shut him up! _Shut him up!"_

The rebel took a breath, and stared at Mike.

Mike met his gaze. Then, walking over, he stooped to exam the bottles. He straightened up. "That bottle was only half full. That was the amount of my ration. Don't worry, I won't have anything to drink from here on out." His gaze swept the room, and he smiled. "It's going to be all right."

The victims met his gaze, unable to speak.

They heard a choke. The rebel had slumped into the sand.

**Day 3**

** "**Mike! Mike, get over here, we need you!"

Blinking, Mike batted the dust out of his eyes, and sat up. He immediately swayed, pain swamping him.

_What was going on_? It felt like his lower abdomen was filling with acid, every time he moved, fire filled him. Every day it got worse, along with the dark, purple blotches. Grimacing, he stumbled forward.

Jack met him, dusted face stricken. "Mike, something's gone seriously wrong." He indicated the man with the punctured lung, still sitting on his cushion.

Frowning, Mike crouched. "Hey, you doing okay?" he turned the man's head toward him. His blood froze.

The man's grey eyes stared back, unblinking, unseeing. No. No, NO, NO!

His breath coming in gasps, Mike rapidly laid the man down on his back. Placing the palms of his hands on his chest, he started compressions.

"57, 58, 59, 60!" he gasped, voice cracking. He leaned down, feeling his heart pound as he pumped air into the man's mouth. He checked the pulse. No response. No, _unacceptable_. He quickly returned to compressions, "1, 2, 3…"

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Mike…" Jack whispered. "It's all right. Let him be."

Mike's fists clenched, as he felt hot tears sting his cheeks. No, it wasn't fair… Damn it…

It doesn't make sense. After Lizzie's death, and, through her life… I thought I might have found my purpose. I thought I might actually have found a way to help the world, to be _worth _something.

But I'm still _useless._ He was my patient, and I still had to watch his life slip away. There was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing has changed. My life is still nothing more than a waste of energy.

Not that it's going to last much longer. I can't hide from what's happening. I ruptured something in the crash. Judging from the area of the internal bleeding, I'm guessing my stomach, or some other intestine. Stomach acid must be leaking, that's why I'm being eaten from the inside. Huh.

Not that it matters anyway. We're almost out of supplies. My throat feels like dry toast, butterless-and-cooked-to-long. That boy was right, no one's coming. Everything I did for them, it was all useless. We're all going to die here, after all.

In the darkness, a single tear made its way down his face. Blinking, he held back the rest. He didn't deserve tears.

_B: Breath In_

**Day 6**

Mike and Jack lay splayed out on the ground, breath coming feebly, choked with dust. He couldn't remember the last time someone had spoke, or moved. He couldn't remember the last time he had opened his mouth for food, water, or anything.

He honestly didn't understand why he kept on living. The pain in his stomach had increased, until he had abruptly stopped feeling anything at all. He knew that wasn't a good sign. Now, his head just buzzed feebly, memories playing on a faded projector.

"_Hey Lizzie, you better get to bed," he admonished. "It's getting late."_

_ "But Big Brooooo," she complained energetically, giving him the Bambii eyes. "It's only Nine! I want to stay up and read!"_

_ He snorted. "All right." Leaning across, he brought a quilt across her thin frame. "Don't want you to get a cold. Who knows what would happen then."_

_ She nodded solemnly. Then, out of nowhere, she said, "I wish I had a donor. Then maybe, things would be different."_

Mike's eyes flung open.

Reaching into his pocket, his fumbling hand brushed aside his cell phone, and shakily withdrew his wallet.

"Hey… hey, Jack?"

There was seconds of dust filled silence. Finally, he heard Jack roll over. "Mike?"

"Do you have a pen I can borrow?"

"Uh… yeah, sure." He tossed over a ball point.

Squinting in the failing light of the emergency strips, Mike withdrew his driver's license. He flipped it over. Kidneys, yes, lungs, yes. His eyes were shortsighted, but they'd do. He didn't circle small intestine, he knew what was left of it would be unusable by now.

And heart, of course. Then, he signed.

Jack had been watching him attentively. Now, he sighed, and blinked. "Oh, I swear. Mike… you're something." Then, with a flash, Jack McPherson's driver's license was out as well.

A middle aged man was watching them, slumped against the wall. "Hey… what's that?"

"It's the organ-donor list on your driver's license," Jack explained.

"If you sign it, even if you die… Your life still has use. You still go on to help another."

The man grimaced, his breathing labored. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he reached for his wallet.

The couple straightened up. Exchanging a glance, they dig through their pockets.

Jack watched incredulously as all around him, driver's licenses and pens appeared in the hands of those a step from death minutes before. He knew many people were hesitant to sign their organ donor sheet when they first received it. No one wanted to think about death. Somehow, that wasn't bothering them anymore.

Hesitantly, their rebel ducked his head. Procuring a stubby pencil, he began to scribble.

Mike groaned from beside him. "Oh… Jack, I just want to tell you thanks. Thanks for everything you did. I'm sorry I was so useless, awkward and useless.

Jack chuckled. "Mike… as far as awkward, there's something you've got to know. Everyone here could care less about how awkward you are. You lift us up. And here's some advice: if you're worried about getting to know people and being awkward… just stop. Don't worry about it, just talk to them!"

He could barely hear Mike's response. "Thanks… I'll remember that, if I ever… I…" his voice passed out of hearing.

At the edge of hearing, there was suddenly a noise. A little less than a shudder, a little more than a shake.

"Just look at everyone. We were all in the pit of despair… and now we're thinking about the joy of _others._ Mike, you've saved all of our lives. We owe you so much."

The rumbling increased. The middle aged man looked up in confusion as a stream of pebbles began to stream down the face of the cave in wall.

"Thank you, Mike. Mike?

There was no reply.

"Hey. Hey Mike, can you hear me?"

There was a series of strangled gasps, as the stream of pebbles escalated into piles of rocks, rolling down the stone face.

"Mike, please," Jack repeated, his voice breaking. "_No…"_

Suddenly, a light appeared at the top of the cascade. A lantern flooded the cavern, the beam of light illuminating the sightless eyes of Michael Carter, Medical Student, organ donor, and big brother.


	53. The Clumsy Angel

Relief soaked Mike as the memory of his final pain ended. He lay still, taking in his surroundings.

He could feel sunlight prickling at his closed eyelids. He was very warm; whatever he was laying on was unusually comfortable. He could hear a heartbeat, thumping below him. And… his hair was moving; someone was gently stroking him.

His eyes blinking groggily, he sat up.

Emily gazed back at him calmly. "Good morning, Mr. Carter. Did you know that your hair is quite springy? It is obstinate, and refuses to lie flat."

Mike stared back at her, then he leaned forward, eyes widening with joy.

"Emily! _Emily, you're okay!_ I was so worried, you were really sick, I thought those monsters had hurt you."

She regarded him. "It was a hard fight. But I could not surrender control, I could not give up. I still have my duty."

Mike glowed. "You're amazing. I don't think I could ever have the strength to hold off that many of the monsters."

At his words, Angel blinked.

She quickly recovered. "You seem different, Mr. Carter."

He nodded. "Yeah… I just remembered how my life ended, you see. I was in a train accident, and we were trapped in a cave for days."

He scooted forward in his chair. "Before, I was depressed. I thought I never got to be a doctor, that I would never each my dream of helping someone. Does that make sense?"

Emily nodded immediately.

"But, in the crash, I was able to treat everyone's injuries. And then, at the end, I found some small way to make it up to my sister. I agreed to leave myself behind, so I could help another life. That was what I wanted, anyway."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up.

"I'm sure the stranger who accepts your gift will say 'thank you' every day of her life," Emily said. "She must appreciate you."

He felt curiously light, as if something had lifted off of him. "My life on earth wasn't that bad, after all. I mean, if I was able to help someone, then I had to have had some worth, no matter how small. My life, had a purpose."

Maybe there was more to life then I'd thought. Maybe it's more complicated than a world of pain. Honestly, now I'm not sure about anything. God was a mystery to me, he was behind so much pain; but he couldn't be all bad, could he? Not if he was had also created all of the beauty I've seen. Not if he made the people I've met, and the person in front of me.

He looked up. Emily was looking at him very strangely, like he could burst into flames at any moment. "Mr. Carter… have you overcome your anger? Do you feel at peace with your life?"

He frowned at her. "Well, right now, I do feel pretty peaceful, in fact. If my life helped someone, then… I guess I'm okay-" he broke off.

Emily had shrunk from him, her small hands coming up to cover her eyes. For a minute, he said nothing, highly confused as he watched her huddle.

Finally, her hands came down. The moment her hazel eyes saw Mike, they went wide.

"Mike,_ you're still here!_ You haven't passed on!"

He blinked. "Why, no, I haven't. Why in the world would I pass…" He trailed off as something jarringly fell into place. He leaned forward.

"Hold on Emily, what do you mean? Why would I pass on?"

She leaned forward as well, moving to brush his cheek in awe. "You _are _here. In the past, whenever one of my friends had found peace, they passed on, and left me. That is why I was so rude to you, I was selfish. I did not want to have to watch you go."

But Mike couldn't comprehend what she was saying; his mind had caught on her first statement. "No, people are obliterated when they follow God's will. It happens when they start obeying like the school wants you to!"

Angel shook her head solemnly. "The purpose of this world is to give people closure. It's to give them the peace that they never found in life. That's why this afterlife is in the form of a school, no one here was able to enjoy their childhoods. Once they come to terms with their existence, they move on to their future. They have found peace.

The morning sun glowed off of the soft pastels of the infirmary. The sheets of Emily's bed rustled as she moved forward, regarded Mike curiously. "Wasn't that obvious?"

He abruptly stood up, his chair scooting back. "No! _No, it wasn't!_ How on earth were we supposed to know that?"

"Weren't you able to tell by looking at everyone? By the way they have always responded to my efforts with violent anger? By hearing the stories of the wounds they bear, and seeing the tension they still hold?"

Mike hesitated. Now that he thought about it, everyone here had endured difficult lives. And… it was true. All of his friends were holding onto their tension, their anger, their regret for what never was.

Was _that_ what this afterlife was? A world, made to save young souls?

Hayley… he remembered her last conversation with her. She had seemed different from everyone else in the Battlefront, relaxed, her manner spoke of grace. She hadn't been obliterated by Angel after all… she'd chosen to move forward.

Everyone in the Battlefront, they're still here because they resist their unfair lives! Their pasts have hurt them, until they see life as ugly. But, they hold those memories in with anger, until it latches onto them, and drives them forward off of their own pain.

Angel wasn't trying to defeat us. Emily wanted us to see what we refused to acknowledge. She wanted to show us that there was more to life.

Arg, this is so frustrating! Everyone was just trying to defend their own beliefs, but it led to fighting… Our weapons against her guard skills, until now, every day is vicious battle.

He stopped pacing, his sneakers resting on a floor that seen its share of grime, his included. "Emily… you are inept. You know that? I mean, you really can't communicate with people."

She nodded. "Yes. I'm aware. Unfortunately, I have had next to no experience with other people." She looked at him anxiously. "I don't really know how to talk with them."

He sighed.

"But… it's possible, that now I can help them. That is if, if you still wish to associate yourself with me."

Winnie's fiery eyes flashed in his memory, and Mike flinched reflexively. She's so tense all the time. She tries to cover up her confusion by leading us, he realized. And with what happened to her family, she has a reason to be upset. But I'm worried about her, and everyone else too. I know what they're going through, until today, I felt the same way.

I want them to feel the same peace that I feel now. Everyone one of them deserves joy. I'm still not totally sure where I stand in the fight between my Battlefront, and the Lord. I've seen so much; and I don't know what to make of it. I'm their friend, but I want to help Emily. What can I do?

What can we do? Me, a professional loser, and the clumsiest angel ever known?

But I have to help them. I have to try.

Mike smiled at his ally. "Let's help them find peace. No matter how tough life is, I think we'll be able handle it. We'll be able to face whatever comes after this life; if we all move on to face it together. And besides, it's not like I'd leave you."

Emily immediately stepped out of bed, her toes shuffling until they found her shoes. She peered up into Mike's eager face. "Very well. Regardless of what I say to them, I do not believe everyone else will be willing to reconcile with me, especially after what my reflections did to them. What should we do?"

"Hmm…" Mike began pacing again. Actually, he did have a plan. A plot, actually. Oooh, this felt nice, this must be what Winnie feels like. "Actually, I have an idea. Will you help me?"  
"What a curious way of phrasing it. Mr. Carter, it is you who have helped me. I will do whatever I can."

"It has come to our attention that there was an incident of underhanded debauchery during our last testing period," the principal droned. His mike crackled with feedback as he appraised the assembled student body.

"A group of misguided delinquents appears to have sabotaged the tests of our own Emily Robinson. Upon reflection, we have realized that the writing on her tests does not match her handwriting, proving her innocence. The delinquents in question will be reprimanded.

"It is our wish that Miss Robinson rejoin the student council as Student Body President. Miss Robinson has graciously accepted. Substitute President Albert Lecher will be returning to his role as Vice President."

"Aw, this sucks," Harry groaned. He sat around a table with Winnie, Leonard, Elly, Luke, and Mike. Piles of potatoes waiting to be pealed smiled back at them. "I can't believe they found us out. And after all of that pain from blasting off."

"It's really not fair," Elly agreed.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed. "Only we truly understand each other's pain, my friend. We're brothers in blasting off!"

"O-oh? Are you trying to make me strip?"

"Why the hell not!"

Winnie shot them a look, and they immediately sat down.

"It's not like we had a choice in accepting the punishment," Elly finally noted. "Now that 'Emily Robinson' is the vessel of the Fallen Angels, this punishment was the only option. If we'd refused, she would have cut us to ribbons."

"It would seem God has traded his servant in for an upgrade," Leonard agreed dryly.

Luke poked at a potato mournfully. "It's kinda sad, actually. I mean, Angel was scary, but she couldn't have been all bad. And to be abandoned like that…"

With a sigh, Harry flicked a potato at Mike. "Well, what do we do now?" His eyes glinted. "Because we sure as heck aren't going to let her push us around like this."

"No," Winnie spoke up. Her knife lay at her left hand, untouched. "We have lost this battle. But we have not fought all of this time just to surrender to a monster. We'll think of some way to destroy her. And then, we find, and take down, the master."

At Winnie's right hand, Mike peeled potatoes calmly. He imagined it must be hard for Emily, pretending to be something so far out of her nature. But against all odds, she was trusting him.

The Battlefront needed a distraction, and Angel was their enemy. Once they were occupied, no one would notice Mike, as he helped them do what they'd avoided for so long.

To find lives of peace.

**A/N End Of Mission Eight. It was at this point in the show that I was doomed. Once I figured out the true purpose of the afterlife, it was just… ahk. It only got more powerful from there. I'm going to do my best to translate that intensity. Most of you know what happens next.**

**Deep bsreath**


	54. Partnership

Tiffany sighed, her blonde bob throbbing as she slumped down into her hands. She sleepily doodled hearts on her copy of the meeting's itinerary as Kyle droned on.

"In short, madam President, we're all extremely relieved to have you with us again," Kyle said, smiling up at the figure at the head of the table. "Personally, I always thought there was something suspicious about the whole affair. Vice President Lecher's regime was highly efficient, and we owe him our gratitude. It's just, we all enjoyed the order you brought to our school.

Frowning, Albert's eyes began to flash red-until Angel stood up. He quickly slumped back.

"Thank you for your words. I-"

"Actually, I disagree. She didn't do anything to stop those nutso thugs when they broke school rules, and instigated that _annoying _field day," Tiffany whined. "Honestly, I think Emily needs to become more aggressive. Those thugs are _obnoxious_."

Albert's eyes bugged out. This girl was toast. Any moment now, the Fallen Angel would snap, and Tiffany's pretty head would bounce across the floor.

Emily nodded silently. "I know. I must improve. But do not worry, everyone. I shall bring about order."

Albert gawped at Emily's calm face. What?

"Have you decided which individual we should assist first?"

Mike nodded. "I have, actually. I thought a lot about it. I think first we should try for someone who's pretty close to peace all ready."

The incinerator's coals sparked as he threw on another load. Evidently, Emily had also taken it upon herself to deal with the garbage. Every Saturday morning, she came down to the cafeteria to burn it in the brick-lined incinerators. Mike had at this point learned to accept her habits, and had simply volunteered to help.

"I think we should try Julie."

Emily frowned, turning toward him. "Julie?"

"She's the one who regularly attacks Harry."

"Oh."

"She's hyper to the point of annoying, yes. But she always seems really happy. I think out of all of us, Julie had to the closest to peace. All she needs is a push in the right direction."

Emily wiped her hands off on her apron. "Very well. I trust your judgment, Mr. Carter….would you like to see the new ability I created?"

Mike perked up. "Really? What'd you make? I've always been amazed at how you can do that, you know. I could never understand programming."

"It isn't difficult," Angel remarked. "I simply read the manual. Here, I created this new version of hand sonic after I finished reinstalling all of the other guardskills."

"_Guardskill: Hand Sonic, Version five."_

1's and 0's became blue squares, flat tiles that spun and molded around her arm, flashing as they formed a shape. As the glow subsided, Angel looked up at him expectantly. "…what do you think?"

Mike gawped. The familiar sword was twisted into a demonic form, red hilt coming before two crablike-pincers, that both came to deadly sharp points. "Umm."

"I tried to make it look serious and threatening, as you said I am now supposed to impersonate the other versions of me." She blinked. "Is it no good? I tried, but, I am not very certain what would look frightening…"

He quickly put his hands up. "Oh, no, no! It's _really _creepy_._ It looks really cool."

"It doubles as a slingshot," Angel added hopefully.

He smiled at her. "Aw, come on… Emily, how did you get so good at everything?" I guess it's just part of being an angel, he supposed.

"I have been in this world for a very long time," she replied solemnly. "I have had the time to learn how to fence, to program, to use a slingshot, the various species of plants, as well as various high school curriculums."

"I see… well, let's get going. Here's my plan to start things off with Julie."

"She's at practice right now. We need to create a situation where I can talk to her. Here's the plot.

"You burst into their practice. You tell them the other clubs have been complaining about the noise. Then, you point at Julie, and tell her that her guitar work is particularly terrible, she's killing the band. And as such, you are going to confiscate her guitar.

"You snatch it, and scamper off. Julie loves that guitar; she'll run right after you. You run away from her, to the outside patio. Then, I'll pretend to bump into you! You throw the guitar and spin away. I'll catch it, and hand it back to Julie! That should give me a good opening to start talking to her. Sound good?"

Angel nodded. "Very well. This should indeed serve to isolate the high-pitched one. I shall do as you recommend."

"_We can go anywhere once we start running," _Julie sang. _"We can destroy our ang-"_

"All right, hold up, hold up!" Jess interrupted, her guitar coming to a screeching halt. She growled. "Enough at the shoddy attempt at rhythm, Julie. You were forgetting to hit half the notes."

"Whaaat? No, I was sure-"

"Julie…" Irie spoke up gently, not looking up from drums. "Maybe, you should just go with singing for now? I mean, this is a new song, so I can understand if you need to ease into it."

"Not to mention there's no way we could perform with guitar work that bad," Kate snorted. "Honestly, I thought you were playing twinkle twinkle little star."

Julie spun around from friend to friend, her face glowing red with indignation. "But, Hayley played guitar while singing! I want this band to be just as good-"

"That's because Hayley was _good _at both," Jess snapped. "She had years of experience."

"But, it can't be that bad! Whenever we perform, everyone gets really excited."

Jess sighed, knuckling her forehead. "But this is a new song. Look, we can't risk-"

The door slid open. Light from the hallways streamed in, to illuminate Angel's looming figure.

Girls Dead Monster jumped in shock, moving to defensive positions. They flinched as Angel's pale hand flew up.

Emily pointed at Julie. "Your guitar work is killing this all girl band."

Outside the window, trees swayed gently.

Jess-She instantly identified our bands one true weakness!

Kate-Whoa, she's got skill!

Irie-She's good with music!

Julie-Sniff, and I had thought no one else had noticed…

"As such, I will be confiscating your guitar," Angel continued, gently prying the instrument from Julie's fingers, before striding out.

GirlDeMo watched her go in awe. Moaning, Julie slumped to the floor.

"Here," Angel proffered, her hair whipping in the patio's wind as she offered Mike the guitar.

He glanced around, brow creased. "Um. Why are you alone?"

"Because she didn't follow me."

Shame faced, Mike crept back to the practice room. Music was coming from behind the door.

"_Shine days…_" Julie finished, eyes red.

The band was silent for a moment. "…Good job, Julie," Jess spoke up. "See, isn't it easier for you to concentrate on singing when you don't have to worry about rhythm?"

Julie wiped her eye. "But… but, I just think our band looks best when everyone's playing an instrument, you know?"

"It's all right," Irie comforted. "We can always just-"

Julie snapped up. "No! No, it's not all right! I'm not going to degrade this band. I'm going to get my guitar back! Now, where'd that little demon go?"

Through the window, Mike's eyes widened. Julie was charging right for the door.

The door flew open. Julie burst forth, and came face to face with Angel, standing steps away.

"I am scary Fallen Angel," Emily began hesitantly. "And there is a perfectly legitimate, evil reason why I am still standing here, five minutes later."

But Julie wasn't listening. "_Give me my guitar back, darn it!"_

She flew at Emily, who hastened away from her down the hall. Mike ran the other way, flying down the stairs to head them off. Reaching the patio, he hid behind a pillar.

Presently, Emily emerged from the other door, jogging down the path. Stepping from behind the pillar, he gave her a light shove.

"Ahhhhhh," Emily yelled in a monotone, "I am jostled." She threw the guitar into the air.

Mike's eyes bugged out. Seriously, she didn't know her own strength! The guitar whistled into the air, reaching the top of the building before descending. Mike scrambled out into the yard, reaching, reaching-

The instrument smacked into his arms.

'My guitar!" Julie squealed, running up and snatching it from him. "Oh, thank goodness. You rescued it from Angel, didn't you? You're so nice!"

She glanced around, her gaze turning ferocious. "Grr… where is she? Angel or not, I'll tear her limb from limb!"

Mike scratched his neck. "Calm down, calm down. Sheesh, you just do whatever you like, don't you?"

Julie stilled. "No. No, I don't do everything I want to."

"But you're the band's lead vocalist," Mike protested. "Wasn't that your dream?"

"Of course it was," Julie agreed happily. "One of many!"

One of many… Mike groaned internally. "I see… hey, want to go for a walk?"


	55. Expensive Dreams

**A/N In response to the reviews of the mysterious Guest. I just wanted to let you know so I don't get your hopes up; no, this isn't going to have a romantic relationship between Mike/Otanashi and Julie/Yuri. I'm sorry. I do, however, have something in store for the existing relationship. **

"All right," Mike began. "Let's have it. What are all of the things that you dreamed you would do?"

They were strolling on the main path, overlooking the fields. Below them, students enjoyed their clubs. People in shorts stretched and ran on the track, others battled on the tennis courts. Under the hot sun, kids slammed pitches on the baseball diamonds, and shot passes on the soccer field.

"Hmm," Julie replied, gulping from a can of juice she'd bought. "I've always wanted to do more than most people. Why do you suppose that is?"

"Uh… because you weren't able to do what you wanted when you were alive?"

Julie's face glowed. "Hey, you're right! Maybe that's it."

"So, what was your life like-"

Singing to herself, Julie ran on ahead. Muttering, Mike followed after.

He found her sitting on the bleachers, legs swinging beneath her. He sat down. "So, tell me. Just what do you want to do?"

She cocked her head. "Well, let's see. Baseball! I want to hit a homerun! I was planning on practicing at it, see, once I got settled into the band."

Mike laughed. "Balancing a band and a sport, that's kinda a lot to handle. But if necessary, I guess-

"And then, of course, there's soccer!"

"Heh-what?"

"Soccer! Remember how everyone was so into it as kids? I want to get good at it!"

Mike slumped. Seriously… who in their right mind would play two sports, and be in a band? How in the world had Julie come up with such crazy dreams? "Well… I guess…"

"And after that, pro-wrestling!"

Mike choked on his coffee. "Huh?"

Julie nodded vigorously. "I've always been so impressed with their grace and ability of movement. Besides, then I can thwomp Harry. Of course, this might be a-ways into the future."

Mikes eyes were shut tight. I should be getting paid for this, he thought. He opened his eyes.

"All right. Let's do it.

Julie gazed up at him. "huh?

"Let's help you reach these points. We'll do wrestling first, that sounds easiest." Mike started loosening his sleeves. "What move did you want to learn?"

"The German Suplex! It's when you grip your opponent by their waist and then pile-drive their noggin right into the ground!" Julie smiled. "I want to grind you into the ground until you scream for life!"

Mike's jaw worked. I was dead wrong, he realized. This is going to be very far from easy. And I'm probably going to die. "…Right. Let's do it…"

Beaming, Julie jumped up. Springing up to him, she grabbed him around the waist, from the back.

Mike's eyes widened as he was lifted into the air. "Whoa… you're actually pretty strong. You've got this!"

But Julie's arms were trembling with the exertion. With a yell, she flew Mike up-and he flew away from her, coming down to the bleachers with a slam.

"Maybe it is impossible for a girl," Julie wondered, as Mike writhed in agony behind her.

"N-no!" he choked. "You were really close! Let's try it again, but on grass. Or I will die. Seriously die."

Once they had secured a quiet corner of the fields to themselves, Mike gazed at Julie severely. "All right. If you ever want to pull off a wrestling move like a Suplex, then you're going to need to seriously build up your strength. It's going to be hard, and arduous. It's going to involve running laps, doing pushups, and the Rocky sound track. Are you ready?"

**-One Training Montage Later-**

"One… two… three…." Mike wheezed, his head pounded into the turf. His legs kicked feebly. "Ding-ding… you win the match."

Julie sprung up. "I did it!" she cried, as Mike collapsed into the grass. "I performed a German Suplex! And it only took 7 hours of training!"

She turned to Mike eagerly. "When can I become a master of soccer?"

"Tomorrow. Tonight, I need to curl up in a ball."

"Whoa," Julie exclaimed the next morning in the cafeteria. "I've never seen someone with a face so many colors!"

Mike grunted and sat down beside her, not speaking.

"Here, I got you some breakfast," she offered, pushing over a plate of eggs. "I'm really grateful that you're being so nice to me, you know. Most people try to ignore me."

Mike sighed. "Naw. To tell you the truth, everyone I know really likes you. It's just fun to have a lower-class man to mess with." He glanced at her. "So, for soccer. Will scoring a goal against a goalie work for you?"

"You kidding? I have to dribble past 4 people, and then make it past the goalie! Just like the pros!"

Mike slumped into his eggs. Aw, come on. What kinda life had this chick had, to give her these expectations?

Mike came across TK outside the administration building, turning headstands into head spins. Students on the path split around him, giving him a wide berth.

"Hey man," Mike called as he walked up. "I was looking for you."

"Liven' on a prayer, halfway there!" TK greeted. "Days like today are made to be rocked!"

"Yes," Mike agreed, taking the safe route. "Hey, could you do me a favor? Something's come up. I need you to gather up the guys I list off. It's really important."

Flipping onto his feet, TK leaned backward, his head resting on the grass as he plucked a flower from the ground. Zipping back up, he stepped forward, and tucked behind a student's ear as she passed by. As she stopped, derailed, he turned to Mike and nodded an affirmative.

At 11:30 that morning, 5 of the guys of Battlefront met for an urgent strategy meeting in the men's bathroom.

"OK dude, what's up?" Emm asked, leaning against a sink. Jake lurked near him, TK and Harry stood by Mike's other side.

Mike glanced around carefully. Everyone leaned in. "All right. This morning, I found a note, from _Angel_." He procured a piece of paper.

Jake ripped it from his hands. "Lemme see this… "

Emmanuel laughed. "Don't be silly Jake. You can't read."

Jake turned scarlet, and he quickly read the note.

"_It's absurd that you can call yourself men when you can't even defeat a single girl_." The guys' eyes widened. "_I'll pone your wussy skills through a battle of strength. Meet me on the soccer fields after school. Punks. Sincerely, Angel_." Jake's hands were shaking. "Why, how dare she! That arrogant little snob!"

"This doesn't make any sense. Why would Angel threaten us?" Harry noted.

Darn it, Mike thought. I choose you guys because, in the nicest way possible, you're all morons. Now is not the time to be clever. "It's a different Angel now, remember? The Fallen Angels have control."

"Hey, that's right!" Emmanuel snarled. "We still haven't gotten back at them for stabbing us!"

But Jake was storming off. "I'm not going to let some girl tell me what to do. I'm going to report this to Winnie."

Mike rushed up to him. "Jake, Jake, calm down. Think of what this will do to her. Winnie's so busy right now, with all of her uber-important plans. This would just be one more thing for her to worry about. However, if we deal with it ourselves… Then I'm sure she'd be really grateful. And _very _impressed."

Jake stopped in his tracks.

Harry and Mike exchanged a glance.

"We can't let this pass…" Emm growled. "₪ I grew up on the street! My father was a cockroach and my mother was the Hudson River! Ain't no woman going to insult my manhood!"

"My memory has just been sold," added TK.

"Right!" Mike yelled pumping his fist. "As the men of the Battlefront, we must defend our honor! Come on, guys, let's send her to cleaners!"

"My angel is the centerfold!"


	56. Time to Think

As the bells rang for the end of final block, the men of the Battlefront marched onto the soccer field. Their faces were set with cast-iron determination, every footstep shook. Emm spat, the sunlight glistened off of Jake's halberd.

As they approached, they made out a figure standing at the opposite end of the field. They tensed. Then, they stumbled, as they made out the familiar painfully-pink hair of the opponent.

"_Julie?_" Emm growled. "What the hell's going on?"

"Ha!" came the cry from their diminutive opponent. "So you wimps showed up after all! Prepare to have your butts kissed!" And at that, Julie began dribbling forward, her clumsy feet struggling to direct the ball.

"I get it…" Mike hissed. "_She's the one _who sent that note! She thinks we're wimps! And look, she'd dribbling towards _our _goal!" He pumped his fist. "As men, we must defend our honor! We must stop her!"

Mike's friends exchanged glances. 'I have no idea what's going on," Jake confessed, scratching his head. Then he grinned. "But she ain't beat'en me! _Let's go!"_

Mike whooped as they ran onto the field. Honestly, he had no clue how that worked. "Right! Harry, you go guard the goal. The rest of us will take her down!"

Jake was the first manly defender Julie faced. She raced down the field, more toe-ing the ball forward then dribbling. Jake grinned.

"Ha! You loser, you're all open!" Jake moved to steal the ball. "I'll just-"

Jake stumbled out of Julie's path, rubbing his cheek vigorously as he groaned. "Hey… something hit me!"

"_Jake, what are doing on the ground!_" Emm yelled as Julie came up to face him. "Now I have to take out this little punk. Eat dirt, little-"

His motion to kick the ball away was interrupted by Julie's motion, namely her ramming herself into his side.

"THAT WAS A FOUL!" Emm roared, as Julie ran on, giggling.

TK and Mike sprung forward.

"Um, stop right there!" Mike yelled.

"Eye of the Tiger, man" TK sallied.

Exhibiting extreme skill, Julie dribbled straight for them. Mike saw TK turn, and reach out. He was going to get the ball.

"-Don't worry TK, I got this! I-oof!" Mike grunted as he rammed into TK, both heading for Julie. They both fell over backward, groaning, as Julie zipped in between.

Julie came to a stop in front of the goal. She leered at Harry's shaking figure. "And now, for my trademark shoot!" She lifted her leg up dramatically. The other's watched her incredulously. "Prepare yourself… FOR MY SPINNING DEATH GUILLOTINE!"

Harry's eyes widened to overtake the rest of his head as the ball headed right for him.

Moron, you shot it right for his head, Mike thought. It'll smash his skull in, but you won't make the-

There was a twang, and the ball abruptly was flung into the far corner of the goal. Harry collapsed.

Julie's mouth made a perfect "O". "I… I did it! I did it!"

"I can't believe it…." Jake muttered weakly as he, TK, and Emmanuel made their way forward. "She beat us… though something _did _hit me, I'm telling you!"

TK kicked at the grass.

"It's all right," Emm comforted, patting Jake's back as the trio slumped off. "Let's never… speak about this, all right? Never."

Sighing with relief, Mike threw a thumbs up to the side of the field.

Nestled at the top of a tree, Emily put down her demonic crab-hand-turned-sling-shot, and let her pebbles drop. Then, she slowly returned the gesture.

Mike grinned ruefully. Julie'd done it. She'd almost lost control of the ball, and had violated more than several rules of soccer, but she'd done it.

He smiled uneasily as Harry stamped up.

Harry grimaced. "Okay man, what's cooking?"

"…What do you mean?"

Harry gave him a knowing look. "_Angel_ would never sign her name as Angel. What are you up to? You don't have to hide from me, I'm your friend."

Mike hesitated. Darn it, why'd Harry have to be so intuitive. He couldn't lie to Harry, but Harry had been fighting Angel for years, he had to be careful.

"Well... it's just… I just thought I'd help Julie out a bit. Try to help her do what she never got to."

Harry's eyes widened. "What, did you lose a bet?"

"Kinda."

Harry grinned. "Tough, dude." His gaze wandered over to Julie, still doing her victory dance in the goal. His smile turned wistful. "Man, she's so ridiculous."

"So, you tried to help her "win" at soccer? What's next?"

"Baseball," Mike admitted sheepishly.

"Hey, that's my sport!" Harry declared. "Why don't I come and help?"

Mike choked. "W-what?" He had thought Harry despised Julie. But then again, in his life he'd never been good at understanding people. Maybe even now, he had more to learn.

"It can't be that bad. Just toss her an easy pitch, let her run a circle around us," Harry continued. "Done by dinner!"

"You want to hit a homerun?" Harry groaned. Mike patted his shoulder.

"Yup!" Julie declared. "Right over that fence. All the really impressive baseball players hit homeruns."

"You goofball! You hitting a homerun is like Garfield running a marathon. It isn't going to happen." Harry and Julie glared for a moment, until Harry coughed.

"Ok, whatever. Go get a bat, a helmet, and a bucket of balls. This could take a while."

The sky had reached a purple shade of dusk when Harry finally stopped pitching. He gasped, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Whew… we better turn in, it's curfew. Angel might show up."

"So?" Julie argued. "That big bully can't harm me!"

Harry smiled at her. "I think you'd have a hard time hitting a homerun with your head over by second base. I'm surprised you kept it up this long, you're pretty tough."

"It's all right. We can start again tomorrow," Mike promised as he approached, dropping all the field balls into the bucket.

"Yay! Thank you!"

Like a series of Christmas lights, the campus's lamps blinked to life, raining light down on the path as Harry and Mike strolled back to the dorm. Mike could feel the night's chill begin to nip at his dirt-covered skull. Man, he needed a shower.

"Man, she's so ridiculous," Harry said suddenly, facing forward. "The way she acts, you'd think she… well, she's really confident. And irritating!"

Mike sighed a neutral reply as he brushed some dust off his shirt.

Harry glanced at Mike. "The dream of most girls I knew was to have a summer home in the Caribbean. I wonder where the hell she got her drams from. Hey, Mike? What do you think Julie's like was like?"

Mike frowned, caught off guard with the question. "Her… life? I'm not quite sure. I doubt it could have been that bad, considering how cheerful she is." But that can't be right, Mike suddenly realized. Now he knew what this afterlife was. To be here, Julie's life must have been…

Harry laughed. "Yeah. Silly little goofball." They reached the dorm. "I'll catch you later. Make sure that you don't use up all the hot water again, all right? I'm going to stay out for a bit."

Mike watched, confused, as Harry walked off, down to the moonlit river.


	57. Foul Ball

"No, no! You need to hit the ball with the center of the bat, all right? To get maximum force, you have to connect with the sweet spot." Harry squinted in the Sunday sun, and touched the brim of his cap with a smile. "Right, here's another one."

Julie spat in determination. With a flash, she swung-and the small white sphere bounced past second base.

Harry watched it go with a frown. "Go and get that, please, Mike. Now, that time you hit with the top of the bat. You need the center! Hit the ball with the center!"

"Balls ain't all this bat is going to be hitt'en," Julie called out.

"Haha. I want less form those silly lips, and more from those noodle arms."

"Sure is a sunny day," Mike called out before things could escalate further.

Remarkably, they were able to keep on track. The hours passed, with Julie clipping, snagging, missing, and bunting ball after ball. They stopped for lunch, laughed through a round of sandwiches, and dipped into an abrupt war of douse-the-other-person-in-lemonade. Then training continued.

But… it wasn't working. Mike could definitely see improvement; Julie could now hit most of Harry's pitches, something she'd never managed in their tournament game. But her hits never reached far beyond the baseline. As the sun fell, Mike realized with resignation that Julie simply didn't have the arm strength.

Finally, Harry's pitch blew right past Julie, while her bat hung motionless. She stood there panting, sweat rolling of her forehead. Groaning, she slumped against the batting fence. "Guys… I think I need to stop."

Harry started to walk toward her, shaking his head franticly. "What, no way! Come on, you can't quit now."

She sighed. "I don't think I'll be hitting a homerun anytime soon. I mean, that fence over there has to be 20 feet tall. It isn't happening."

Mike and Harry glanced at each other helplessly. Finally, Mike cleared his throat. "If…. If that's what you've want. You're really gotten better at baseball, though. Is there, well, anything else you really dreamed of doing?"

She nodded firmly, carefully removing her helmet. "Yes, indeed," she replied seriously. "I still need to become married."

Harry choked. "Wait-what? What did you just-"

Julie blushed. "Calm down, I know it's weird. It was just a big deal to me, back when, you know. In my country, marriage was a really big deal. Girls were expected to marry. It's tradition. And those who didn't were considered a drag on their family. I didn't want to bring shame to my mom, but… there was never really any chance."

She appraised their dazed faces. "I guess none of that would make sense to you guys. I'm guessing you lived someplace pretty different. Where I grew up, things weren't always very… shiny. Not that I was involved in that."

Julie took a breath.

₪ "When I was 9, I was in a car crash. Kinda like you Harry, except I wasn't high, I just wasn't watching where I was going. Went skipping right out in the middle, and WHAM!

"But… I didn't die. I was paralyzed instead. I couldn't move my neck, all the way down. I couldn't walk, I couldn't stand. I couldn't use a wheelchair, so moving me was next to impossible. So… I spent all my time in my room, just lying in my bed. I still remember every inch of that bed. There was a stain on the headboard in the shape of Brazil.

"I could barely even feel my arms, let alone lift them. Books and computer were out of the picture. At first, I thought I _would _die, but from boredom. Believe it or not, I was a _very_ hyperactive child; it took me _years_ to find my current level of self control.

"However, I wasn't unhappy. The reason was most certainly my mother. She would read to me, or just spend hours with me, telling me stories about her day. I could still talk, but in those days, I never had much to say. But whenever I did, she'd listen totally, as if the words of this bed-anchored shell-of-a-child were precious secrets."

Julie kicked the dirt. "While she was at work, all I could really do was lie there and watch TV. That's how I learned about everything that was going on without me. I saw people playing baseball, running races, dancing; wrestling was my favorite, I loved everything they could get their bodies to do. All the other teens were going to the movies, running to class, hanging out.… It all seemed so _cool_.

"That's why I love this world so much. It may be some kind of trap from God, but to me… It's an opportunity. I can run, I can fight, and I can _dance._ I have friends. I can do everything I never had the chance to do."

Mike had never seen Julie like this before. She was smiling, but her face was fixed with a seriousness he'd never known she possessed. Beside him, he saw Harry's knuckles whiten.

"My mother had to do everything for me. Every day, she'd wash me, change my clothes, and feed me. I was like a big, stupid baby. But in all the years that I hung on to life, she never said anything about it. My mother someone managed to do that every day willingly. I've never understood it, how someone could love another so much that they'd care for them totally, without any kind of return. I wanted to pay her back, but she was stuck with me. No one would ever have married someone like me, of course.

" It still doesn't make sense to me. That she would love me so totally. I've always wanted to understand."

Julie blinked. "Whoa, I've been yakking about myself an awful lot, haven't I? That's pretty rude." She shuffled from foot to foot. "Look, Harry… Mike. I appreciate everything you've done for me. Finally being able to do what I'd dreamed about was amazing. Honestly though, what I really loved was that you guys gave so much time to me, it doesn't make…" She sniffed. "You're both weird. I'm going to go eat."

And she skipped off. Mike watched her go, mouth hanging open. He turned to his friend in time to see a strange expression cross Harry's face. The expression widened his eyes, tightened his brow, and then vanished as soon as it had appeared.

I wonder what all that was about, Mike thought.

**MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH-**_**HA-**_**HAHAHAHA! HAHA! SMILES EVILY, THROWS DOWN SMOKE BOMB, AND DISAPPEARS INTO THE SHADOWS.**


	58. Steps Taken

After a long moment, Harry cleared his throat, his face flushed. "Mike. Something's up, isn't it?"

Mike turned to him hesitantly. Uh-oh.

"And, you know what it is. So buddy, it's time to spill the beans."

"Look, it's complicated. I don't know if, well…" Mike swallowed. This was dangerous. If Harry told-

Harry crossed his arms. "Dude, I know you well enough to trust you. Please, trust _me_. I'll believe what you have to say; at this point, nothing could surprise me."

Harry kneaded his temples. "Could you repeat that last part? I think one of my screws came loose for a moment."

Mike glanced around the patio. He couldn't see anyone, but it was vital that they weren't overheard. "Look, we were wrong about this world. We're not here to be forced into submission."

"We've been brought here to find peace," Harry finished. He was silent for a moment. "It seems so incredible, but… it fits. It all kinda makes sense now, you know? In a way, I think I've known for a long time."

He chuckled. "Man, Fred's going to have a fit when she finds out. Wow. Yikes. Say, how does all of this fit in with the Battlefront's mission?"

Mike shook his head. "Beats me. I don't know how God fits into this at all; I certainly haven't seen him. It's just, I don't think that spending all of our time trying to get back at him isn't going to help anybody. Instead, I, I want to help people. And I'm not alone."

He swallowed, and nodded at the figure that was making its way through the door.

"I arrived as soon as I could, Mr. Carter. I had to find a way of departing the meeting, through-" Emily's eyes went wide as she saw their company. She stayed stock still as Harry shot up.

Harry stormed up to her, and… stopped. He blinked. "So. You've been helping my friend, Ang… Miss Robinson?"

She nodded firmly, craning her neck to look up at him. "Indeed. Mr. Carter possesses some very creative ideas. He is very clever, if rather silly at times."

Mike beamed at her. "Is that so? Well then, you're going to have a field day with this one, Emily."

Harry glanced between them, his color rising. "Hold on, that's hardly…. Uh…" He glanced at the President sheepishly. "So… you're not possessed by a horde of demons?"

"No. I will not allow it."

Harry coughed. "Well… that's good. It's, uh, a nice day, right?" he snuck a glance at her. "Uh, no hard feelings for all the times I shot at you?"

Emily shook her head.

Harry's shoulder's untensed. He clapped his hands, his toothy smile breaking out in a flash of radiance. "Right! In that case, looks like you guys will be needing my help. No offence, but neither of you really seem to be the best at socializing. You're going to need my effortless popularity, my common-sense know-how. I want to help you guys."

"As do I," a voice rang out. They jumped, swinging around in alarm.

Albert finished disentangling himself from the flowerbed. He straightened up, brushing dirt off his uniform. "I happened to be walking by, when I coincidentally over heard your remarks. I too wish to assist you, Michael."

Mike cast him an incredulous glance. Albert shrunk under the look. "All right, I followed Angel from the meeting… I was suspicious, you see. Several days she has held power, but she still hadn't killed anyone. Now, it makes sense. Many things make sense."

Alfred strolled up to them. Harry rolled his eyes."I owe you a considerable debt, Michael Carter. If it wasn't for you, I hesitate to think at the state I would still be in. I, well, that is to say…

"Thank you so much, Mike. Thank you for acknowledging me. I want to do what I can to return this gift to others." He proffered his hand.

Mike glanced at Emily. As the others had crowded up to him, she had moved back. She was currently trying to replant the flowers that Albert had uprooted in his exit. Mike smiled at her.

"What's up, Emily? How do you feel about all this?"

She regarded the newcomers gravely. "If you trust them, then I will reciprocate."

Considering what happened this afternoon, Mike thought, I guess we can use all the help we can get. He shook Albert's hand firmly. "All right. The truth is, I'm really glad that you're both with me. But we can't tell anyone else yet, all right?"

Albert nodded eagerly. Harry sighed, shaking his head ruefully. "Aw, man. The situations I get myself into. This is going to be difficult, you guys know that?"

"I can handle anything," Albert declared haughtily.

"Right. Thought as much." Harry turned to Mike. "But, you realize that the technique you were using wasn't working, right? Working together, we tried to fulfill all of Julie's dreams. We tried to let her realize all of the desires she had in life. But it didn't work, she still isn't at peace."

Mike nodded sheepishly. Come to think of it, just giving someone whatever they wanted was a pretty silly idea. Just from his experience in life, he should have known that wouldn't have worked.

"-But with us all working on it, I'm sure we can figure something out." Harry continued. "Mike, I love everyone here just as much as you do. I want to help my friends. Starting now, things are going to change."

Osiris's eyes narrowed. Things had to change. Now.

All around him, hundreds of monitors all sent him the same message. Each visual monitor relayed direct feed of the upper world; each view fed directly from the eyes of an NPC. Each visual monitor and data readout screamed at him the same verdict; the virus was everywhere. He could see it in the columns of data, scrolling before him in pillars of red.

Despite the servant's best efforts, the virus had taken root. He had taken direct action, and created Hands of the creator, sent out to eradicate it. But the Hands had been routed, and then, instead of destroying one of his oldest inconveniences, the being known as Angel had defeated them: _using the virus_!

Osiris descended the steps of the control room, his cloak sweeping behind him like a mist. More drastic steps would be taken. As much as he was loathe to interfere in the workings of his master's world, he simply had no choice.

With quiet steps, he reached the bottom of the pit. He heard a strange noise around him, a steady gust of wind. The beast was asleep.

An event is needed, Osiris reflected. Some drastic event to shake the members of the Battlefront, and shake the virus right out of them. Those hot-blooded juveniles would do all of the work for him, if given the proper push.

A suitable event is indeed approaching, he remembered suddenly. And perhaps, they should receive an invitation? He could use his control over the programming to influence the student council, and direct their actions.

He carefully removed an instrument from a rack near the floor. He smiled at it, his thin lips stretched as he stroked its surface. And then, this creation would do so nicely to provide the push.

Osiris paused. The wind had stopped.

Suddenly, a burning iris opened in front of him. The scarlet eye fixed upon him in the darkness, and then widened.

The wall shook as the being roared. Claws the size of a man raking the sides of the pit as the monster rose up, back arching, its spine prominent and knobbed. An elongated snout tore open, revealing rows and rows of flashing fangs, waiting patiently.

Osiris gazed at it calmly. He did not flinch as it began to step toward him, only to halt with an agonizing roar. Chains of fire burst to life, leaping from the pit walls to capture the beast's neck.

Osiris smiled. "Do not worry yourself, Ammit. As surely as the sun will rise, so our enemies shall fall."

**A/N End of Mission Nine. So, I'm pretty sure you've all noticed something's up. This is the point of divergence. From here on out, I'm going to be taking the story in a slightly different direction. I just think the ending needs a bit more to it then the show had time for. I hope you like it, especially those who have following this effort since the beginning. Thanks for the support, everyone. How this divergence is going to work… well.**


	59. Crash the Party

"_Cordial and positive greetings from your peers, the Student Council. We hope that all of you members of the music group "Girls Dead Monster" are faring well. We trust that you are enjoying the school year. As we are sure you are aware, the Elihu the Young Acadamy Prom will be held this very Saturday. It is our dearest wish that you would concede to perform for the event, as the major musical act. We look forward to your compliance for tomorrow evening._

_Sincerely,_

_Secretary to the Council, Tiffany Throbbing_

As Winnie finished reading the gilt-framed note, she glanced up. The Battlefront gawked back at her.

"This doesn't make sense," Luke murmured. "I thought Tiffany hated GirlDeMo?"

"Maybe she was overruled…"

"None of this makes sense," Winnie declared, pacing in front of them. "The council has always been opposed to GirlDeMo, largely due to the fact that it not only violates rules every time it plays, but most of the student body loves them."

"I always wondered about that. Why would NPC's like them so much?"

Elliot shrugged. "What kind of teenager wouldn't love rocking out?"

"-this invitation represents an entirely unexplained shift in viewpoint," Winnie continued. Confuses the heck out of me, she thought. But those politicians are crazy. And I can use this!

She whirled around, and flipped on the projector. Her friends leaned forward in readiness. "Girls Dead Monster shall accept the invitation," she commanded, sharp eyes confident.

Julie quivered. "But… what if it's a trap?"

"Don't worry, Julie. You won't be alone." Her gaze swept over the crowd. "This year, all of The Battlefront will be storming the Prom!

"The dance will be an event of chaos. As such, our Student Body President is usually stationed there with the teachers, to maintain order, and to make sure people don't dance too close together. She will be distracted."

Winnie indicated a patch of the gym hear the exit. "It's a sure bet that she'll patrol under _this spot, _at some point during the dance."

She turned to face them. "And we'll be ready. Prior to the dance, we install a giant, high-strength cage in the raters over point x. The moment our little demon goes under it, wham!" It's a solid plan, she thought. And, well, it's all I had time to come up with.

There was a pause.

"It's simple. I like it!" Emm cried. "We just go in, and smash her! And, we get to _crash the party_! Haha!"

"It should work," Elly conceded. "Angel shouldn't have a guardskill with the destructive power to destroy the bindings."

Finally, Julie squealed what they all were thinking. "We're going to Prom!"

Rich and TK laughed, and slapped a high five.

Luke looked physically ill.

Mike rolled his eyes.

"-They've sent the order down to the Guild," he explained. 'It's supposed to be made of steel, so you won't be able to break it. The edges are sharpened, to skewer the target if there's a narrow miss. They have Jake operating the drop."

Emily blinked up at him. "So as long as I simply refrain from traversing under the trap, there will be no issue."

Harry laughed. "Well, that was easy." He nudged Mike, as the four members of their unusual squad wandered along the river bank. "So, you got an idea for the next one, big man? I would suggest we try someone who doesn't talk much, they're probably peaceful."

Albert snorted. "Only a moron such as you would think that. Better to target someone who's talkative, then we know what we're dealing with. I'd expect such drivel from you, of course."

"Why you-" Harry started to retort, then trialed off. His mouth fell open.

Albert's luminous eyes enchanted. "It's time you lean the truth, my dear sir. You are nothing but _toilet paper_. Think… of how toilet paper swirls as it's flushed down the-"

"Knock it off," Mike ordered, giving Albert a shove. "We need to be serious here."

Behind them, Harry spiraled to the ground, and lay there, limp. Mike nudged him until he was back on his feet.

"You have a point though, Albert Just because someone doesn't talk much doesn't mean they're peaceful. Imagine trying to placate Hannah."

They shuddered.

Harry scratched his head. "Well, who then?"

"I have a suggestion," Emily spoke up. "Why not the one band member, the lead guitarist?"

They stared at her in disbelief. "Jess would kill us," Harry said flatly. "There's no way she could be anywhere near passing on."

Mike watched Emily carefully. She held Harry's gaze in that unflinching way of hers, but he saw her hands picking at her shirt's edge. Lizzie had done the same thing whenever she became nervous.

"I… I don't want to raise a disagreement. But I honestly believe she is a good candidate. She has been in this world for quite some time." Emily's gaze dropped for a moment. "I know her manner may appear unpolished. But she is a musician. She creates and performs art.

"In my experience, music changes you. Through it, you release that which is held close. This guitarist loves her music very much. I believe it has helped her find peace."

Emily lapsed back into silence, and continued to walk along the river bank.

They hurried to catch up to her. "That's a good idea," Harry accepted, eyes wide. "Why don't we go with that, Mike?"

But Mike was watching Emily. "Hey, I thought you didn't know much about the Battlefront?"

Emily started to fumble by the river's edge. "Well, not really. That is, I never was really able to understand, that is, well…

"I love your music, though. It makes me feel… odd."

Finding a stone, she paused, and held it up, her eyes narrowed. She slung the lumpy rock, and it slid right into the water with a plop. Her shoulders slumped. "Is the rock not supposed to bounce?"

"You need a flat stone for it to work," Mike supplied. "I'm pretty terrible at it, but if you want to learn, maybe I could help you?"


	60. Heavy Metal Love Song

Sunlight trickled into a crammed office. It illuminated a half-graded test, as Mrs. Spicer put down her pen. Heaving a sigh, she leaned back into her chair, and gazed out the window wistfully.

In the courtyard below, students lay on the lawn, chatted on benches, and crammed in the shade. Giggling packs of females roamed aimlessly, posing a near-impenetrable barrier to any would-be suitor.

All around the gym, decoration was in full swing. Streamers hung from the walls, balloons bounced against the ceiling, and a single disco ball was carefully installed. A grizzled administrative matron directed progress with a critical eye.

At the front, Jess supervised the set-up of sound equipment on their makeshift stage. As Mike and Harry walked up, Julie tripped over yet another wire, eliciting a storm of well-chosen words.

Mike carefully hoisted himself up; Julie eagerly fled from the wires, taking Harry down with a flying tackle.

Irie strode up to Mike with a welcoming grin. "Hey! How can we help you?"

He put his hands in his pockets. "Oh, uh, you know. Just came to see if I could help."

"Like sh**," Jess grumbled. "That's exactly what you'll give us. If we get any more clumsy "helpers," then this damn sound system'll never get off the ground." Crouching, she put the ruined wire through her fingers. There was a brief flood of warmth, and when she straightened up, the wire was whole… and purple.

"All of my old band's sound equipment was purple," she explained. "Don't ask why. In any case, it's all I remember. Good thing I remember something. We'd never get any volume with the sh**y system this school has."

Mike chuckled nervously. "Your old band? I've always been curious about that. What was that like?"

Jess chuckled. "My days with Death Iron Valkyries? You want to hear about that?"

Kate muttered something under her breath, and flashed him a look. He trooped on. "Yeah, I do. Maybe I've heard of them."

Stooping, Jess fiddled with an amplifier, her face hidden. "Funny. Most of the people who knew about us were the people in our neighborhood who'd yell at us to quiet down. But… it was good. While it lasted.

₪"Death Iron Valkyries never really broke out onto the main stage. It's pretty difficult to, when you're a grunge, symphonic metal-jazz band. Not a big following audience. But, and I don't exaggerate, we were pretty damn good. No, I'm not biased."

Jess smiled wryly. "Hell, all we ever really wanted to do was jam, anyway. We'd just hang out in the lead singer's garage, rocking for hours. It was something else. When you play music, thing seem different. You can start to see an order in things, beautiful patterns that run through you. Metal's no different, except every inch of you howls with energy. You simply shake, the music pouring off you. We lived for beauty. Music was the only way we could see it.

"Our lead singer, well, he was card. 'Hamnet,' stupid name, right? But he was incredible. When I met Hayley, I thought she was his spitting image, simply because of the passion they brought to their music. But, well, there's a big difference between them."

"When Hamnet sang, you wanted to scream with him. There was so much _anger_. I know the guy had a bad life. His f***ing dad bowed out on him, and his mom was usually sick. Life in our city didn't give him any breaks. Hamnet was hurt. Like the rest of us in the band, he was furious at everything around him. And so our band found its soul.

"It all fell apart, eventually. Like everything else does. Hamnet started becoming withdrawn; the only time he'd really speak was during our songs. Eventually, he gave up. His mom called us, told us she'd found him with an empty thing of pills. None of us felt like continuing after that.

Jess spat, wiping clean a gummed-up plug. She didn't look up from her work.

"The brute ugliness of the world killed my friend. Our world was hideous; we couldn't escape from it, no matter how hard our music tried. In the pitiful remainder of my existence on that mud ball, I never forgot his lesson. Experience in the world only shows you more horror. I saw that life was ugly."

Forcing his hands to his side, Mike stepped forward. He crouched next to the guitarist. "Anything I can do to help with that? I'm not very good with circuitry, but-"

"Hold this," Jess muttered, passing him a role of duck tape. Mike gripped it firmly, and then paused. His brow furrowed.

"Jess… do you still think that… about life? Do you still like it's ugly, now that your here, with us?"

The rocker was silent for a moment. "Like it matters what I think. Won't do anything to change what is."

"But, well. Ah, hell. Living with you guys is different, you know. My city was nothing like this. I still get to play music, but the words are different now. Every time I play one of Hayley's corny love songs, it gets better."

Jess glanced at him. "And… I do see it, sometimes. Beauty, I mean. I see it in the flowers. I see it in those stupid apple trees by the path. You know, the ones too high to get without someone giving you a boost. I see it in the Battlefront… Hell, sometimes I even see it in Julie."

Standing next to Harry, Julie smiled.

Abruptly, Jess grumbled, and yanked a length of tape from Mike's roll, leaving his fingers red from the spin. "Enough yakking. The dance is in a few hours."

Off the stage, Harry turned to Julie. "Are you ready?"

She nodded eagerly. "You bet! I've never been to a dance before. I'm so excited I could just fall over!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "That wouldn't be very good. The Battlefront needs you."

"And I wouldn't get to dance!"

"You'll be playing, remember? You can't dance."

Julie's small hops of enthusiasm gradually slowed. "Huh?"

Aw, nuts. "No, don't worry," Harry backed pedaled rapidly. Figures, I let my mouth run for a few moments, and I go and get someone upset."I'm sure the band gets a break. You'll be fine, I'll even dance with you, I- uhh…"

Julie blinked. "You will? Well, I'm not very good at it yet." She tried to push her hair back behind her ear. "But I'll try!"

How is she doing this, Harry wondered. Some people are hurt by tragedy. But after all she's gone through, she can still smile like that? Smile in that enormously annoying way, with those crooked teeth, and her lips curving, and her eyes, uh, um.

"You two can quite standing there like a double of dumb dodo's," Jess called. "Make yourself useful. Go and stop those freshmen from putting balloons on the stage. Tonight, we rock."


	61. Waltzing Without a Beat

Wild blonde hair twisting, the energy of the room rushed over TK. He could feel the beat, thumping at his fingertips. Howling with glee, he spun out onto the dance floor. This was his arena.

"_What use is the sky to those who can't fly?_"

On stage, Julie swayed, twisting on her heels as the words burst from her. Before her, the students of Elihu the Young Acadamy jumped in time, yelling and laughing. Lights flashed and spun as she played, her fingers finding the notes with utmost concentration. Julie glanced at Jess.

Jess only gave her a calming wink, before leaving all contact with the world to enter one of her infamous solos. The notes tore through the gym as the party commenced.

The crowd gave room of respect to the figure breaking it down in the middle of the dance floor. TK twisted and slid, feet finding invisible holds as he jerked to the beat. Out of nowhere, a massive form drew next to the dancer, and soon Richie and TK were twirling in sync, calling back some of the best of disco's classics. The other students watched in wide-eyed wonder.

A ways from the mob at the center of the crowd, Elly stood at the outskirts, observing the proceedings. "Such chaos," he muttered to himself.

"_High-high-high, we learn to fly. Clouds and storms collide around us…_"

Abruptly, Elly found his foot was tapping. Before he could stop it, the other had joined the mutiny.

A crowd had formed around the snack table, plates of cake disappearing quickly. However, no one strayed by the punch bowl.

Behind the drink, a ninja lurked. Hannah scowled. This _party _wasn't safe. There were too many people, too many potential threats all jostling and stamping their feet. She could taste the salt of excitement on the smoky air. A figure drew near her, and she glared at it.

But Luke just kept walking up to her, until he stood by her side, shivering. He glanced up. "Is it all right if I lurk here with you, Hannah? I get so nervous at parties. I never know what do, or who to talk to, or how to eat while standing up… Don't worry, I won't say anything."

Hannah hesitated. They lurked in silence for a few minutes. There was a cry-Harry had jumped off the stage, and was surfing on a sea of hands.

She coughed. Without looking, she offered Luke a glass of punch.

"_I got bones of bamboo, wings of tin. You fly off drops of bourbon, fumes of gin._"

Deep in the mob, Albert was tossed like a buoy, waves of humans drowning him.

"Excuse me, miss, care for a dance-" he made out, before another wave sent him sprawling away from the chuckling brunette. Picking himself up, he brushed himself off. Suddenly, Irie started thrashing the bass drums, and the crowd leaped for joy. He was sent plowing into the ground, where he remained, muttering, until TK picked him up and began to twirl him.

A glow illuminated the bottom of the bleachers. Leonard regarded his laptop screen for a moment, and then selected his move.

The Math teacher scratched his chin. "Interesting. Well, see now, I'll parry by moving my queen over here." The teacher (another shy soul), made his move. "And no kid, I'm not calling you Christ."

Emmanuel chuckled as he wandered past. He clapped a hand on Leonard's shoulder. "Glad to see you're enjoying the part-ay, my buddy." He gulped down an entire slice of cake, and tossed the plate down. "Personally, I'm only here for the food and the gi-"

"Pick it up," a sharp voice rang out over the music. Gulping, Emm shrank back as the imposing form of Mrs. Spicer appeared over him. He picked up the plate.

Mrs. Spicer winked at him, and then dove into the crowd to separate a dancing couple that was considerably less than 5 inches apart. And no longer really dancing. Per say.

At the top of the bleachers, Bridget watched the proceedings. It really looked like everyone was having fun…

"Everything proceeds well," she yelled into the mike, over the pound of the bass. "Our target has yet to show movement. We can…"

Bridget trailed off. A shadow had fallen over her. A hand was suddenly reaching for her.

"What' cha doing up here, all by yourself?" the shadow's owner asked, in a rough baritone. She saw a full smile appear, as the young man stooped toward her. Well, Bridget thought. This is unexpected. An NPC made contact. I suppose there's no reason they wouldn't, they are normal students… And, in this case, a particularly well built, student.

"Would you give me the honor of the next dance?"

What the heck.

"Something's come up," Bridget said into the mike. "Don't worry, I'm on it."

"_High-high-high, we learned to fly. Faster then our thoughts could travel._"

Julie roared with pleasure. This was incredible. That she was able to do this, it was all she ever wanted.

But then she looked out at the dancers, and saw couples dancing in time. Her smile flickered.

High up in the observation box, usually reserved for the commentating of basketball games, Jake was stationed. Normally, Jake told himself, he was not one to miss out on the action like this. But for this mission, he had the _key _role.

Rubbing his hands with excitement, he gazed out the window, and made out Fred's small form, standing to the side of the stage. Fred had trusted him with the capture of their enemy!

"Well, of course," he sneered to himself, polishing his halberd. Beside him, the gleaming red button blinked. One touch, and the cage would come crashing down at the main exit. "I'm the obvious choice." And she notices me, she picked me for this job, he thought. Like, oh my gosh, she notices me!

Hands at his side, Mike smiled as the river of people moved around him. A dance… well, he still felt awkward. But he could honestly no longer bring himself to care.

He almost stumbled as a strong hand abruptly seized his wrist. Blinking, he stuttered as Winnie dug him out to the middle of the floor.

Mike swallowed. "What's going on? Did I do something wrong-"

"Just be quiet and dance with me. I need a cover," Winnie hissed. She clasped Mike's hands into hers, then glanced over her shoulder. When she turned back, her expression was dark.

They spun in silence for a few moments. Mike worked to keep his footing as others jostled around them.

"She's still by the stage," Winnie muttered finally. She jerked her heard at their Student Body President, calmly watching the party from a chair. "She's stayed out of position X all night. She's been to the food table, broke up a fight in the back of the room, and went to the bathrooms. Through the side exit. It's ridiculous."

Mike was silent. He continued to twirl with his leader. He could feel her hands burning in his. Her jagged steps stabbed alongside his; her gaze did not leave the gym's floor.

"It's almost like… she's avoiding it." Winnie looked up.

Mike gazed back at her. 'She's an unusual girl," he finally replied. "We don't know what she's capable of."

"It," Winnie said back softly. "Angel is an it."

The music picked up around them, Jess's guitar cutting through the pair. The party lights flashed around them, they flickered in and out of the sight of each other.

"Mike," Winnie spoke up. "You pledged you'd fight with the Battlefront. You promised you'd help me. I… can trust you, right?"

The music must be too loud, Mike thought. For a moment, he'd thought he'd heard a waiver in Winnie. A moment of uncertainty in their titan.

I can't lie to her, he realized. I owe her more than that.

"I will always," he murmured to her, "do what is best for the Battlefront. I can't promise I'll always succeed. But I'll always be on your side. _I'm trying to help you, Winnie._"

He quickly trailed off; no one else had heard his outburst in the commotion. Winnie gazed back at him, her intelligent eyes wide.

Abruptly, Fred stepped away from him. Turning, she fled through the crowd.

Mike stood still, his heart racing. _She suspects me._

He grit his teeth. You don't say, noodles for brains, he chastised himself. Winnie's a mad genius. The question is, how much does she know?

He watched her slim form slip out of sight behind the stage. And… how is she going to handle…

**Ohhhhh this is so much fun to write. **


	62. Spin Closer

As the last notes rang out, Jess stepped up to the mike. Her dark bangs swept in front of her eyes as she smiled out at the crowd, fist raised.

"And what a good night for a damn good party, eh guys?" She chuckled as they cheered. "Right. I'd like to thank the student council, for organizing this. They may be a bunch of tightwads, but they know how to put together a good party. Good job, guys."

The spotlight briefly fixated on the student council's administrative table. Angel blinked in the sudden light. Kyle gazed back at his hero, face flushed with joy. Tiffany twirled her gum in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah, everyone loves politics. Any who. We're going to be taking a break, take a piss, catch our breath, and eat some cake. You guys better have saved us some, or someone's getting messed up. I mean it. The student council's got a playlist lined up so you can keep dancing."

Jess hopped off stage without another word, the others following after a wave.

The crowd chattered happily for a moment, stuck in the in-between phase of a dance where one must calm down, and actually make conversation with those around them. Finally, sound came from the speakers once more.

"Here is the dance-trax play list we have prepared for the occasion," Albert's snide voice rang out. "These trax were carefully selected from surveys concerning which genres were most popular with the student body. You're welcome."

There was a pause. Then, bursting from the speakers at full steam:

"_Duh club, yo! I be-uh rais'en mah arms in duh air at duh club! Everyone get's down at duh club, we got us wallets full of swag and dough, and ya know… and ya know." _The electronic beat continued on for a few seconds, the emotionless ticking pounding on. "_Sugar lips, mmmmhmmm, all I want is sugar, sweet-sweet-sugar, hey baby, oh baby, we at duh club, and mah hands are in duh air, so yeah… dat's what it's all about, so now we can get funky… Hands in duh air, yo. Hand in duh-"_

The noise came to screeching halt. "TK?" Albert's voice rang out over the speaker. "What are you… hold on, calm down! You can't, wait, no, NOOOO-"

A series of thuds, then silence. Then TK's rough voice. "Here you go, dudes. Go forth and be righteous."

Carefully crafted notes began to play. Soon, a rough, tender voice began. "_There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold… when she gets there she knows, if the stores are closed, with a word she can get what she came for. And she's buying a stairway to heaven."_

Harry wove his way through the reenergized crowd, just in time to see GirlDeMo's singer hoist herself off the stage. Julie took a breath as she reached the ground, shoulders slumping. She had barely gotten in one exhalation when she was set upon.

"_Julie_!" came the cry. A wave of chittering freshman appeared from all sides. She yelped as the groupies mobbed her, yammering out questions, complements, and high-pitched noises.

"Why, th-thank you," she stuttered. "I didn't really- Oh, Harry!"

Harry swept through the underclassmen with a snort, catching Julie by her elbow and hoisting her out of the fray.

"Just what are you doing" he muttered. "No spinning kicks to take them out?"

"_Some_ people know about restraint," she retorted. "And I love my fans, silly!"

"Ha."

Julie blinked. They had traveled far from the stage, and were now stranded amongst the dancers. "Where are we going?"

Harry blanched. He examined the ground. He appraised the ceiling. He tapped his foot.

"Well, you see," Harry finally spoke. "I would love to have a dance. That is, if you're okay with it, of course."

For half a moment, Julie froze.

"Well, you can try," she suddenly laughed. "But you'll never be able to keep up! I'm an expert dancer, you know. A professional dancer, er, I mean, an exquisite dancer. I'm better then you."

"Oh yeah?" Harry retorted happily as they moved together. "Since when? Seems to me you have the balance of a 3-legged koala doing gymnastics!"

They hopped left, stepped forward then spun left as TK's classic rock beat through them. "A koala, really?" Julie giggled. "That the best you can do? I expect better from you, Mr. high-and-mighty battle commander. If you're not careful, I'll let everyone else know your secret!"

Step, switch, step, _spin!_ "What secret?" Harry grunted disdainfully. "What conspiracy theory is it this time? Am I an alien?"

Julie clung to Harry's side tighter, skipping to keep up. "Nope. I'll let it everyone know that underneath; you're really just a big, goofy softie."

She smiled at him. "But I bet everyone already knows that."

Harry blinked at her, lost for words. "…What? Hey, no way, I'm a dangerous fighter! I mean, when I see an enemy, I see red, and I, uh… and stuff."

A new song began. " _And can you feel the love tonight. It is where we are. It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer; that we got this far." _

The pair stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, before shrugging it off.

Julie leaned in close. "Face it, you're a softie."

Harry glared back at her, his face shadowed in the dim light. "Oh yeah? Well, you've got a secret too, brat."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Everyone thinks you're an airhead. But _I've _got you figured out!

"You're actually intelligent. Julie, you're smart enough to do what you can, to make people happy. You make us all smile. _I know_ you're special."

Harry smiled at her confidently. For several more minutes, they danced in silence, feet moving in time.

Julie didn't respond. Several times, he saw her mouth open, and then shut; he couldn't make out her expression.

Before the song ended, she spoke. "Oh, uh, look at the time!" she rushed, gesturing in the general direction of a wall. "I need to go. I mean, we might be going back on soon, I need to go get ready!" And without another word she broke off, and rushed away.

Harry slowed to a halt, dismay creeping over him as he watched her go. His forehead creased. "She's… ugh, she's so _ridiculous!"_

He paced forward. He kicked his shoes together. He looked up.

"Aw, bugger," Harry cursed, and ran after her.


	63. The Cost of Love

From his position on the polite edge of the crowd, Mike could make out Emily's position. She sat lightly on one of the school's many plastic chairs, calmly regarding the events around her. Mike smiled; he'd carefully kept on an eye on her all evening. She managed to hold his entire attention. It was so funny: she'd occasionally glide off to distribute order to the party goers, all ways with that same, determined expression. Whenever she passed one of the Battlefront members, she hunched her shoulders, and stalked past with a grimace (in what he supposed was her "scary demon" form). Thankfully, his friends usually gave her too wide a berth to notice the quality of her acting.

Additionally, she followed his order not to stray by the position x with extreme dedication. She kept tremendous distance from it, sometimes looping in massive, grandiose circles just to get back to her chair.

Just what kind of angel is she, he wondered, not for the first time. She doesn't seem particularly church-like to me. But, there is something unusual about her. Otherwise, why would I feel different whenever I'm a round her?

He huffed a breath, and shoved his shaking hands in his pockets. Right. He could do this. He felt awkward, and he felt painfully shy. But he was going to try.

She looked up as Mike approached, and her eyes widened. "Mr. Carter? Is it not dangerous for you to approach me so blatantly?"

Mike only smiled. Extending an arm, he lifted Emily out of her chair with one easy movement. "Miss Robinson, may I have a dance?"

Though she kept glancing at him in confusion, Emily walked with him to the floor. She glanced around them nervously. "But Mr. Carter, wouldn't this level of proximity raise suspicion?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry. I've been _ordered by Fred_ to try and maneuver you to position. That's my reason."

A new song began. They moved into position. "I believe I understand," Emily replied. "You are performing a 'bluff', you were not actually ordered. But what if Mrs. Washington were to notice?" she frowned, confused. "And, what is the purpose of this dance?"

"I saw Winnie go into the bathroom. We've got time." He didn't reply to her second question. Because I love being close to you, he answered in his head. His feet began to tap, the beat was infectious. "Come on!" Mike urged. "This is a fast song! Let's get going!"

Step-step-spin-spin-left-right-step-_twirl!_ Mike witnessed Angel's subdued expression wake up as he led her, flying, through the dance. Step-step-back-up, Emily bit her lips as she tried to mimic Mike's motions. It was all Mike could do to keep from laughing with joy; they were both hopelessly clumsily dancers, stumbling into each other every other step, but neither seemed to mind.

When the track ended, Emily was gasping, cheeks tinged with red. She briefly let go of Mike's hand to smooth her dress.

"_Us and them… And after all, we're only ordinary men_," Pink Floyd spun from the speakers, thumping with a waltz's pace. Their steps slowed, grateful for the break.

"Mr. Carter, might I ask you something?" Emily said after a moment.

And now she's asking _me _questions, Mike wondered. His awe of the situation was started to leave him blinking. "Uh, of-course! I mean, I'll try my best to answer."

She nodded solemnly. "Thank you. My question is: Am I a bad person?"

Mike skipped a beat, and stumbled to keep from coming to a standstill. "What… What are you talking about? Emily, how in the world would you get that idea?" Where had that come from? Jumping hot cakes, he was confused.

They continued to move, waltzing in a simple circle. "Everyone else hates me," Angel argued. "They're afraid of me."

"I just wanted to help people, that was my reason for striving for the post of Student Body President. I thought I could be used to help people. But now, I believe I have found the reason I was unsuccessful. My innate nature must be to cause pain."

Angel took a breath. "Michael, the demons you refer to as the Fallen, they did not form from nothing. They came from myself, every one of them. _They are part of me. _

Mike felt Emily's hand stiffen in his, for a moment his friend looked physically sick. "Though I intended to use one to do good, I lost control of them. They harmed people, and, and I am sure I would not have triumphed over them without the aid of-"

"Hey, come on now, enough of that!" Mike growled. "You know those Monsters weren't your fault. If you're a bad person, then I'm a bullfrog."

"But I am unsuccessful-"Emily tried to protest, but Michael wasn't finished.

"No. Emily, it's okay." He gazed at her sternly. "Honestly, it's okay. You're always talking about your debt, how you're obligated to do all these things. Well, I say balderdash. You can do what you want, all right?

"Emily, you're _amazing. _You do so much. Everyone else hasn't had a chance to see it yet. Emily, you, I mean, you're so, and…"

Mike's tongue stumbled against his lips. Frustration burned through him. Words were failing him; he wanted so much to show the person before him just what he could see, but he couldn't explain it.

Emily gazed up at him. More than ever before, he could discover the emotions fighting across her face: her ragged determination, her worried confusion. Mike swallowed.

Reaching out, he pulled her in closer to him, and they spun.

"If you disagree so strongly," Emily said after a few moments, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "then I can't be sure. After all… I have been wrong before."

He chuckled. "Thanks, Emily. Hey, you know something? You're better at talking to people now. I mean, when we first met, you sounded almost like a recording. Now… I can tell what you're feeling from what you say. Now, when you talk to us… you sound like a human."

Emily danced a few more steps. "Mr. Carter… you say the strangest things."

From the shadows of the hallway, Fred observed the dancers. Sparks flashed at her side as she drew her stone across her knife's edge. Her gaze bore to the gym beyond, as she sharpened, with a shwick, and a shlick.

She didn't flinch when Emily and Mike drew close. It is a tender, emotional portion of the song, she reasoned. Shlick, shlick. How thoughtful of Mike, to include the President in the festivities. We wouldn't want her to feel excluded.

Fred watched Emily's expression with a hunter's intent. Fascinating. It appeared the creature could actually experience emotion. How delightful. If it could feel joy, then it could also feel despair.

Abruptly, Fred flung her weapon into the air. It flashed as the strobe lights hit it, and plummeted back down. She caught it with a satisfying thud. The weight feels just about right, Fred thought, as she turned to retreat back into the hallway. She passed through a set of thick double doors, and so did not hear the commotion that quickly caught fire in the room behind her.

She strode down the dark hall, combat boots thudding against the floor. Well, it appeared that the current operation would not be successful. But she was used to unexpected failures; she would endure this one like all the rest. She could-

Fred stopped. She could make out a shape resting against the door to the girls' restroom, the location she'd held off on visiting for one last look at the dance. Crouching, she retrieved the object, and took it with her into the harsh fluorescence of the girl's rest room.

The bathroom was empty-most of the girls would have preferred the larger on the gym's opposite side. Fred gingerly placed the object on the counter.

Her discovery was undoubtedly weird. At first glance, it looked like a vacuum. At second, an octopus, at third, a cannon. The instrument possessed a green-metal abdomen, from which a number of appendages sprung: metal tentacles ending in black spheres.

At the end of the abdomen, lurked a steel nozzle. The unmistakable shape of a gun's barrel.

Frowning, Fred retrieved the greasy note taped to the abdomen. She flicked it open.

_Fred. Its taken months, but we've finally succeeded. Everyone at the Guild has put everything into this baby, every ounce of our expertise. It's done. We have created for the Battlefront the final weapon. This beast, the "Tormenter," can be used to defeat Angel, once and for all. The instructions are below. We know you will bring our victory. _

_Details Below._

–_Asher._

Fred continued reading the note, her face flushed. As she went, her eyes widened. Her shoulder's tightened. She might just enjoy this Prom after all.


End file.
